


The Chase

by FromJupiterToMercury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25444909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FromJupiterToMercury/pseuds/FromJupiterToMercury
Summary: Forever friends with the Golden Trio and due to a lot of circumstances, you end up in the chase of the Horcruxes. Until an unexpected stop at the Malfoy Manor, residence of your boyfriend…Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor the world they’re evolving in; only the plot.Warning: same level of violence than in the book.(Yes, I struggled for the title. Additional warning: big, BIG fan service)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 98





	1. The King's Return

“Ronald… Weasley… you perfect… fool!”  
Your eyes shot open.  
Being awaken by Hermione’s high-pitched screams wasn’t the most pleasant experience, but it was a sweet event compared to everything you’ve been living for a bit more than four months.

In September had begun your journey to look for the remaining Horcruxes. You weren’t really planned to be a part of this; you had spent the start of the summer at your home, but had joined the Burrow at the end of July to be there for Harry’s birthday and Bill’s wedding. Travelling between places was dangerous, but being the trio’s close friends since your first year at Hogwarts, you had to be there. When Arthur Weasley led you by Portkey at the Burrow, it was the first time since Dumbledore’s funeral that you were seeing your friends – communicated with them, to be clear, as sending each other’s owls was now impossible.  
You had been there for approximately an hour before Ron, in the heat of being together again and in the middle of telling you everything about the two months you hadn’t seen each other, let out something about a mysterious necklace. His ears turned as red as his Quidditch robes hanging behind the door of his room right after, and Hermione shot him with her gaze and Harry let out a big sigh. They then hesitantly looked at each other for two long minutes; it had been really awkward, so much than you were about to leave Ron’s room when Harry broke the silence: “We can tell her. I trust her, and so did Dumbledore.”  
The night was beginning to fall and Molly had already come two times to make you go downstairs to eat when Harry, cut here and there by the two others from time to time, was finally done with his story. You hadn’t had time to make any comment as George, still a bandage around his head, passed by the door. You all obliged to leave to room, deciding it wasn’t the time upset Molly, already on her nerves with the wedding.  
You quickly noticed she was suspecting that something was up, because she threw looks to Harry, Hermione and Ron all along the dinner, even though she had placed them the furthest from each other that the table allowed to. But what she didn’t think about was you being aware of the plan, and did, in a way, decide of your fate by putting you with Hermione to walk back Tonks and Lupin to the barrier for them to disappear once outside the Burrow’s protection spells.  
You didn’t have to talk about it for Hermione to start; Tonks had just gone in a crac! when she said: “We plan on leaving a day or two after Bill’s wedding. But we don’t know how…”  
“I could help you out with that. You think a diversion would be okay? I would use some of Fred and  
George’s merchandise.”  
You scratched your chin, and quickly elaborated two or three hypotheses as you approached the house back, seeing Harry struggling with reluctant dirt while doing the dishes, task Molly had assigned him as soon as everybody had gotten up from the table while Ron had been sent upstairs.  
“Is there anyone else knowing your plan?”  
Hermione shook her head no: “Not even Ginny, but as you know, Molly’s suspecting something and does everything she can to keep us apart. Well, Arthur too, but he’s more cooperative.” She paused, and felt she had to add: “Dumbledore had told Harry he could tell Ron and I, that’s why Harry-”  
You shrugged to reassure her and put a hand on her shoulder: “Hey, don’t worry. I completely understand.”  
You turned your head and gave her a smile, but an anxious expression was still on her face, and you felt it wasn’t just that. You frowned, but your racing brain found the answer before she spoke: “Oh, I think I get it…”  
Draco.  
You had been together for a year when things _got heated_. During your sixth year in Hogwarts, for one day to another, your boyfriend had completely changed. You were worried. A lot. But every time you wanted to talk about it, he eluded the question at first; and when weeks passed, he didn’t even take the time to change the subject to not talk about it and simply left you there, alone with your tightened heart and questions.  
That’s how your moments together happened; moments that became a very few, as he spent a lot of times doing mysterious things with Crabbe and Goyle on the seventh floor. At the end of the school year, when exams approached, you didn’t make efforts to see him anymore, and he apparently didn’t look for it. Spending your days in the library in your books luckily changed your mind a bit, but you were very sad, even more when you saw his emaciated, paler than usual form in the Great Hall.  
And then, that day happened.  
You were sleeping in your comfortable bed, and the moment after you were still in your nightgown, in the middle of the night in the corridors fighting Death Eaters after Ron had made you drink a golden potion from a little flask. After hours battling, the news didn’t take time to reach for your ears: Dumbledore was dead, killed by Snape in the Astronomy Tower, helped by three Death Eaters – and Draco.  
It felt like your guts had been drowned in frozen water.  
It hurt. A lot.  
During months, Harry had suspected your boyfriend to be a Death Eater; and during months, you had defended him, even though he acted like shit with you. Never, for no time, you had thought your friend could be right.  
The day after, during Dumbledore’s funeral, you had noticed he wasn’t there anymore. Some hours later, you came back home, and by reading what your owl brought back in the Daily Prophet every morning, you had brought yourself to assume you wouldn’t see him anymore.  
He had chosen his camp, and even though you were in pain and feelings were still there, you had chosen yours too.

“Hermione, you know we’re not together anymore. The last time I spoke to him, you were there, it was during Potions class in Hogwarts, several months ago.”  
The fact the idea of you sharing information on Harry to Draco for Voldemort was sour, but you couldn’t blame them to have thought about it.  
She finally seemed reassured when you passed the kitchen’s doorstep. Seeing you, Harry opened his mouth but Molly burst into the room and said: “Girls, it’s so late already! Tomorrow’s Harry’s birthday, go to sleep! You don’t want to be tired for the bid day, don’t you?”  
She smiled, but her face let no place to the discussion, so you obliged. Sharing Ginny’s room, the discussion about you providing the trio a diversion was impossible for the night, but you spent the day after talking about it until Harry’s party in the evening – only interrupted by the Minister of Magic himself in the morning – and finished the details in the morning before the guests arrived for the wedding.  
But nothing happened as planned.  
In the early night, Kingsley’s patronus had burst into the tent to alarm everyone the Ministry had fallen, now in the hands of the Death Eaters.  
You were talking with Harry and Elphias Doge when the lynx had spoken in a low voice, strangely disounding with the news it brought, and mechanically got up with him to look for Ron and Hermione. It’s still by reflex she had caught your wrist to disappear and land in Tottenham Court Road, far from the turmoil. From the moment you had stupefied Yaxley in the café you had found refuge in, no one put your presence into question and it’s together you joined Grimmauld Place – and began everything.

And of course, you had never thought it would be easy; but you couldn’t have imagined what had happened during the past months.  
The last big event happened the night before, at Christmas. It had been weeks Harry had insisted on going to Godric’s Hollow, and both Hermione and you obliged, having the same thought at the back of your mind: maybe a Horcrux was hidden there. You had entered Bathilda’s house after she had followed you in the streets full of snow. She had insisted on Harry to go with her upstairs, and after sharing a sceptical look with Hermione, you had let him go with her. What could happen to Harry with an old woman?  
Well, nothing.  
Except that it wasn’t an old woman, but Nagini.  
Both Hermione and you had rushed upstairs when you had heard a loud thud, to find Harry crushed between the snake’s strings, about to faint, apparently in the middle of one of his connections with Voldemort. You had luckily managed to escape right before Voldemort himself had arrived, and went back into the tent in the woods. Your injuries were superficial, but Harry’s wand had been broken and it’s in silence that the three of you went to bed.

So, getting awaken by Hermione’s scream was by far not the worst way you had opened your eyes lately. Her yelling Ron’s name, even if he had left for a while now, didn’t disturb you more than that. Two minutes passed where you assumed she was wearing the locket, and passing her nerves on Harry.  
But what if something was happening outside?  
You sat up straight and passed your head by the bunk bed, hand gripping your wand under your pillow.  
Something was happening, indeed; Hermione entered the tent, a murderous expression on her face. A second later, Harry entered too; he was trembling, and his hair was wet – but smiling. You frowned, as his clothes were completely dry but didn’t have time to say anything when…  
Ron entered.  
He was damp, soaking the carpet, and his gaze met yours, still high on your bed.  
In one of his hands, dangling in the void, Slytherin’s locket, opened, and in the other, a sword set with rubies, glinting under the pale sun of the morning.


	2. The Marked Word

“You’re sure it wasn’t you, Harry?”  
“Ron, please. My patronus is a stag.” He mimicked antlers with his fingers above his head, which made the ginger shrug. “That’s a doe we saw. I’m positive.”  
It was the third time Ron asked him if he was sure he hadn’t _accidentally_ sent a patronus to lead him towards the pond, and the third time Harry said he was sure it was a doe he saw gracefully walking into the woods. You knew usually he would have rolled his eyes in front of his insistence, but he was way too happy about Ron’s come back to start to argue with his best friend.  
Ron opened his mouth and you suspected him to be ready to ask it a fourth time when a grass-tearing noise made the three of you turn around.  
Three metres away, Hermione had apparently chosen to blow off steam on a tuft of grass peeking through snow. Harry got up and went next to her, asking if he could do anything for the ‘breakfast’, what let both Ron and you alone. When you turned back to him, you saw his falling face looking at her. You nudged at him: “You know how she is. It will pass, and don’t take it as hatred.”  
He lifted two blue sad eyes to you, but a glint of hope crossed them.  
“Yeah?”  
“Yes.” You glanced at Harry and Hermione to see them disappearing into the tent before saying lower: “She cried, when you left. And I don’t mean only after your departure.”  
His eyes went on the opening of the tent, where she stood a minute earlier.  
“y/n, before I broke the Horcrux… I saw something…” His breath got ragged, and he swallowed with difficulties. “It was Harry, and Hermione. They were together, and… They were, you know…”  
You put a hand on his forearm to stop the pain of formulating it.  
“This vision was meant to hurt you, Ron. You know there is nothing between them, uh? There has never been; he considers her as a sister. I thought you knew that.”  
He then threw you a surprised look.  
“You mean you-”  
You rolled your eyes: “Oh please Ron, of course I saw that. Everyone did.” You added, lower again: “And I think she does too.”  
He blushed hard, and looked at his feet, but you noticed he bit his lip to contain a smile. Probably to drag the conversation away, he brought back the silver doe when you decided to enter the tent again, the cold air starting to bit your skin.  
You had to admit it was a big question for you too.  
Someone, despite the danger, went into the woods where he, or she, knew you all were. This person had known where the sword was, and sent a patronus to bring Harry to it.  
 _But who?_  
Seeing Harry and Hermione were sitting together, concentrated above a little book further in the tent, both of you sat on the lower bunk and made a list of people good enough to have made you do a good step in your quest.  
Harry’s father’s patronus was a stag. You knew it was impossible, but Ron and you couldn’t have helped but thought about Lily, shaking your heads in disbelief right after in front of the lack of sense.  
Ron whispered Dumbledore’s name, but your look was enough for him to let his shoulders fall.  
“Plus, his patronus was a phoenix. Harry said it once.”  
Minutes passed where every name of the Weasleys, the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army passed; but you knew the shapes of their patronuses, and it definitely wasn’t a doe.  
You were looking in the vague, your mind wandering.  
 _And what if…_  
No. No, it couldn’t be him.  
 _But you had never seen him produce a patronus…_  
And? There was no way he knew where you were. And how Gryffindor’s sword would have fallen into his hands? He’s a Slytherin.  
 _But-_  
“y/n?”  
You blinked and turned your face to Ron.  
His eyes were looking at you expectantly, like he had asked you something and was waiting for an answer. A second passed, and his eyebrows frowned in an anxious way, what awkwardly reminded you of Hermione.  
“You don’t think it’s-”  
“No.”  
He hummed. “Okay.”  
You silently thanked him to not insist and tried to chase Draco’s image from your mind the best you could and end this internal fight between your reason and your heart when Ron nearly yelled: “McGonagall!”  
Your lips parted and you blinked.  
She was a Gryffindor…  
But it was too good to be true; last year, you had seen her do the charm and saw a silver tabby cat escape her wand, not a doe.  
You scratched your chin.  
“The track of it being a Professor is tempting…”  
Ron counted every teacher’s names on his fingers, but no one seemed to fit.  
“…Hagrid?”  
You saw he didn’t believe it either whilst saying it.  
“Ron, I don’t think he’s able to produce a patronus. That’s advanced magic.”

He sighed: “I don’t think of anybody else. Filch? A Squib. Binns? Come on.” He let his arms fall at his sides, his hands bouncing on the mattress.  
“You forgot a name, though.”  
Your tired brain made you think about Slughorn, name that you had forgotten to say, but you shook your head no, finding this hypothesis too hard to believe.  
Ron raised eyebrows.  
“What? You’re not thinking about Snape, aren’t you?”  
“Xenophilius Lovegood.”  
Hermione had planted herself in front of you, hands on her hips. Ron sat straight, but she kept her gaze on you.  
You frowned: “Luna’s dad? But how…”  
“We should go and meet him. About the rune in the book that we saw on Peverell’s grave in Godric’s Hollow, you know.”  
Harry, behind her, came at her side: “He was wearing this sign on a necklace at Bill’s wedding.”  
You took a breath: “Guys, I’m not sure it’s a good idea. We’re going to uncover ourselves…”  
You saw Harry and Hermione were convinced with their plan, and turned to Ron for support. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Hermione and said: “I know where he lives! I can lead us there.” He smiled, and still not looking at him, Hermione nodded, satisfied, and got out to take her surveillance turn.

Weeks passed since the destruction of the Horcrux and your visit to Mr Lovegood. Ron and Hermione were talking to each other again, but the wave of excitement and the feeling of advancement the four of you had felt had started to fade away all along with the raising of the temperature outside.  
Harry couldn’t cease to talk about the Deathly Hallows, being sure it had a link with Voldemort. You recognised it was tempting, but were with Hermione saying you had to focus on the Horcruxes, your path would meet the Hallows of it was linked, wouldn’t it?  
The night was falling outside, it was getting cold, even though the day had been hot and he was bragging about it again, begging Hermione to read The Tale of the Three Brothers to him from the book in runes again when you grabbed a blanket at draped yourself in it. It was comfy, and you were now too used to Hermione and Harry’s bickering for it to bother you, so much that your eyelids started to be heavy…  
On the background, Ron was, as every evening, listening to the radio, and the crippling sound of it nearly rocked you to sleep.  
You vaguely heard him being joined by the two others to listen to Lee’s show.  
“Did you hear what Fred was saying?”  
Harry was talking in an anxious tone.  
“He’s abroad! He keeps on looking for the wand, I knew it!”  
“Harry…”  
Sleep was around the corner…  
“What, Hermione? Why are you denying it? Vol…”  
Your eyes shot wide open.  
Harry had only pronounced the first syllable of the forbidden, marked, word but it was enough for you to sit straight on your seat.  
“HARRY, NO!”  
But it was too late.  
“…demort is looking for the Elder Wand!”  
Ron could have yelled his name louder, it couldn’t have erased what he had said.  
Pronouncing the Dark Lord’s name had revealed your presence, and no protection spells could hide you anymore.  
A deafening silence had fallen after Ron’s scream, where the four of you looked at each other, holding a deep breath, eyes wide open. Three long seconds later, you heard terrible laughs and steps on sticks and fallen leaves.  
The least you could say was that they were several people walking around the tent.  
You violently, but silently, removed the blanket and walked towards the three others.  
“Scabior, enter the tent.”  
You saw the opening in the waxed material being pushed, but they weren’t expecting you to be four, and as soon as the man’s eyes landed on you, he froze a second. Second you took to take your wand out and shout: “ _Stupefy_!”  
The Death Eater was too slow to react and fell miserably on the floor. You ran next to the entry of the tent, Ron mimicking you and going at the other side. Both of you darted your wands in front of you, ready to attack. On the outside, the others were starting to wonder why no one had come out yet, and voices started to rise.  
From the corner of your eye, you saw Hermione getting her wand out of her pocket and pointing it at Harry. You opened your mouth to say something when a white light escaped it and hit Harry in his face, ripping a painful scream out of him.  
You heard from the outside: “What the hell is happening in there? Scabior, what are you doing?”  
You looked at Ron and raised three fingers.  
He nodded.

_Three…_

_Two…_

_One…_


	3. Undercover

_Three…_

_Two…_

_One…_

But you didn’t have the advantage of surprise anymore.  
“ _Impedimenta_!”  
“ _Stupefy_!”  
“ _Incarcerious!”_  
Spells came from all sides.  
During the half-second before, you saw a circle of five people had been waiting around the entry of the tent. They had been quicker than you, the incarcerous jinx hitting Ron plainly. He was on the ground, tied with ropes, moving like a worm in the fallen leaves, cursing.  
The impediment jinx had hit Hermione, not immobilising her not for long, but long enough for a man to jump on her and pass his arm around her neck to block her against his chest, what made Ron yell louder.  
Harry, right behind her, was already crawling on the ground when he came out of the tent, but you weren’t able to see the reason why; the stunning spell hadn’t hit you, but passed right against your scalp. The force of the spell was so strong it made you fall nonetheless and made your head spin. Your fingers went on your temple; you were bleeding.  
You vaguely saw two men catching Ron, still in ropes, by his ankles and shoulders to put him without any delicacy on a trolley, where two people were already sitting.  
You turned your head and painfully sat, and that’s when you saw him; Harry was half-crouching, half-sitting on the ground, chest heaving, and… disfigured.  
He looked like a particularly violent bug had bitten him.  
But you hadn’t any time to try to communicate with him when you felt someone grip your hair and pull hard to pick you up. You hissed and pushed on your feet to feel an arm around your front, immobilising you like Hermione.  
A Death Eater approached Harry, eyeing his face with disgust.  
You understood Hermione had done this for the others to not recognize him, and for the moment, it was working.  
The only noises were the wind blowing into the leaves, Hermione and yours muffled tries to escape the grips and Ron’s curses, soon joined by laughs that made every hair of your body erect.  
You had never seen him, but heard enough about him by Lupin or Harry to not recognize him; Fenrir Greyback.  
“Look what we’ve got. I see this evening as rich in treasures, my friends.”  
He opened his arms, what was apparently the signal to make his _friends_ laugh loudly.  
The werewolf passed in front of you, pausing to eye your face. He grinned and was so close to you his scent filled your nose. It was a mix of smell of sweat and blood, and if he hadn’t moved away in the second, you swore you would have vomited.  
He passed in front of Harry, throwing him a look of disdain. He snapped his fingers and asked one of the other men to charge him on the trolley.  
Eyeing his prey, Greyback’s eyes fell on Hermione, and his lips curled up in a way it made a shiver run down your spine. Ron’s grunts made you turn your head towards him.  
Your widened eyes fell on Harry, sitting next to him. Surprise crossed your body when you noticed he was already looking at you. His eyebrow arch was awfully swollen, his eyes seeming smaller, but his green irises were darted on you, and when he saw he had captured your attention, his gaze lowered towards the ground. You followed it and repressed a gasp.  
It was there, a bit further than your feet; your wand.  
You don’t know how no one had noticed it yet, but it was now or never. You eyed the surroundings; Greyback was still in front of Hermione. The three remaining Death Eaters were guarding the trolley, attention on their chief.  
Your mind was racing.  
Slowly, you moved your arms the best and the most discretely you could, and…  
With all your strength, you pushed your elbows in the man’s belly behind you; it was enough for him to loosen his grip, which allowed you to push his arms, bend, extend your arm…  
But Greyback was too fast.  
Or too used to this.  
You didn’t see him jump, and in a swift movement of the arm, punch you in the face.  
You heard your friends scream at the same time, and felt yourself fall back under the impact, but the man behind you caught you before you touched the ground.  
“Put this girl in the trolley, and fast. The recreation is done now, enough playing.”  
The grin he was wearing till now faded to let place to anger.  
You hissed when you violently hit the bottom of the trolley. The shock of the hit let place to pain, the punch now added to the injury due to the spell giving you a violent headache. You had been placed back at Harry, and heard Greyback say: “Search for their wands. Now! And tie their hands.”  
“y/n?”  
Your name had been whispered low enough for you only to hear it, and you turned your face left. Your eyes widened.  
“Dean?”  
It was like seeing a ghost, someone belonging to the past. You spent some seconds eyeing each other, and he made a movement with his chin to point at your other side. You turned your face; next to you was sitting a goblin, looking at his feet, legs not long enough to touch the ground.  
Behind you, you felt the trolley move when Hermione was thrown back at Dean. You heard her protests when someone took her wand and tied her hands at her back. You felt ropes circle your wrists too, and heard them say they found Ron’s wand on the ground and Harry’s inside the tent.  
“Time to know who we’re talking to. You, the hideous. What’s your name?”  
“Hum…”  
“Answer!”  
“Vernon.”  
“Vernon who?”  
“Vernon Dudley.”  
Greyback turned back to the man you had stupefied earlier, and said: “Scabior, check the list.”  
You heard parchment noises and steps on the leaves.  
“And you, ginger head? Who are you?”  
“Stan Shunpike.”  
You heard a Death Eater huff: “No way! We know Stan well, we’ve already worked with him. Hey Fenrir, remember-”  
But the wizard’s memories got cut by a thump, and Ron’s cries that made your fists clench in your back.  
“I said: _who are you_?”  
Mouth now hurt and full of blood, he managed to say: “’m Pard-dy. Pardy Weadley.”  
“A _Weasley_?”  
You heard laughs and murmurs that made a shiver run down your spine, and other steps on the leaves. Greyback was delightfully readying himself to interview Hermione but Scabior cleared his throat: “Hey Fenrir. There isn’t any Vernon Dudley on the list.”  
You heard the werewolf come back to Harry.  
“So, no one’s looking for you, Vernon? Or you’re on the list under another name… Which was your Hogwarts’ house?”  
You blinked, surprised of his question, but then acknowledged you had been labelled Hogwarts’ runaways, seen your apparent young age.  
“Slytherin.”  
Scabior snorted: “Oh yeah? You’re not the first to tell us that-”  
“Hey!”  
Everyone turned to the Death Eater who had just come out of the tent. He had several books you used and papers in his hands – and Gryffindor’s sword tucked below his armpit.  
“Look at it!”  
You heard the sound of the pure metal of the sword enter in contact with Greyback’s long, dirty nails and whistles.  
“How much do you think it’s worth, Fenrir?”  
He grunted with envy: “I don’t know…”  
You could guess him making the gold and stones gleam under the moonlight.  
You then heard a paper being unfolded, and a silence of people reading something – even though you doubted Greyback could read, Scabior taking on the reading: “ _Hermione Granger…_ ”  
And then you remembered the _Daily Prophet_ edition on the eating table.  
“… _the Mudblood travelling with Harry Potter._ ”  
A silence fell, where, heart pumping in your chest you imagined Greyback and Scabior look at each other, then Hermione, then her moving picture with the words ‘Wanted Muggle-born’ below it.  
Harry, Ron, Dean and you held your breath.  
“And this, Fenrir? How much do you think it’s worth?”


	4. The Malfoy Manor

“… _the Mudblood travelling with Harry Potter._ ”  
A silence fell, broken by steps and Greyback’s laugh.  
“You know what, girl? This picture looks a lot like you…”  
Hermione stuttered: “N-no, it’s not true!”  
“…traveling with Harry Potter.”  
Other steps on the dry ground.  
“What is this, on your forehead, Vernon?”  
You felt blood running down your scalp, maybe worsened by your fall earlier, but as your hands were tied in your back, it wasn’t possible for you to wipe it. Your left cheek was hurting from the hit, so much it felt like someone was perpetually pushing with his fist on your cheekbone. It was cold outside, but you were unbearably hot; and being tucked between Dean and Griphook didn’t help at all.  
You momently disconnected of what was happening in your back, but heard Harry yell and discussions between the Death Eaters. You felt someone violently grab your arm and felt yourself getting sucked, disappearing from the forest you were hiding in to reappear on a path near another.  
The surroundings started to turn around you, and you swore you were about to faint when you heard Greyback excitedly say: “We’re there! Once we’re inside, one of them would just have to touch their mark and gold is to us, Scabior. Two Mudbloods, a goblin and escaped students in bonus…”  
Eyelids half closed, you turned your head.  
Griphook being smaller than you, you hadn’t anything in your way to see the shape of a huge house detaching itself in the dark night.  
The carriage went past the entrance gate. The wheels squealed on the path drown in the garden. Feathers shining under the moonlight, a white peacock was peacefully wandering on the grass, not disturbed by the little group advancing towards the mansion.  
You heard Greyback hop on the ground and knock loudly at the door. A minute later, it opened and the werewolf took a sweet voice: “Ma’am. Can we enter? _We’ve found him._ ”  
No one answered at first, and a weak voice asked: “Who?”  
He repeated: “Harry Potter. The boy. We’ve found him.”  
None other words were exchanged, and the minute after each of you was assigned to a Death Eater. One of the men grabbed you below your armpit, but was walking in such huge steps you couldn’t keep the speed, your strengths giving up, and you let yourself get dragged like a puppet, after managing to climb the steps, on the marbled floor.  
You all crossed a corridor and entered a huge living-room. You could see couches and tables had been pushed aside, to free the vast area, giving the room the appearance of a dancefloor.  
Candelabras where lightened, making flames dance on the walls here and there, but the principal source of light was the fire in the firepit, the crackling of the wood resonating the vast space. You vaguely noticed two people talking together further in the room before getting thrown on your knees on the floor in a line. You were between Hermione and Dean, but no communication was possible. You saw the woman who opened stop in front of you. She eyed the six of you quickly, not an emotion on her face, and turned back while pushing her long blond hair behind her shoulder.  
Your gaze fell on the floor.  
A lot was going on in your head, but you weren’t able to process any information.  
You didn’t hear any of the men who brought you here anymore, certainly stayed behind you, or even in the corridor – except Greyback, who joined the two people further in the room.  
“Lucius, call him. Now!”  
You heard a high-pitched female voice: “Why _him_? I can do it!”  
“Wait.”  
Mr Malfoy had spoken on a firm tone, but something in his voice translated fear.  
“Are you sure it’s him? Our master told us to not bother him today. We cannot fail.”  
Greyback answered through gritted teeth: “I tell you it’s him. Remove your sleeve…”  
But Lucius didn’t listen and made a step only towards the little line.  
He was now in the light of the firepit, and his sight made Hermione squeal, but you refused to lift your face.  
He was badly shaved, hair matted so much they seemed shorter than usual. Deep dark circles were below his eyes, making him look like his last full night of sleep was very far.  
He drew a breath and turned.  
“Draco. Come here.”  
Your jaw clenched, those words confirming what you had guessed earlier you wanted to admit.  
Your eyes were still darted on the black marble, but your sense of hearing was decupled. The nearly empty place made every word, every noise resound and you felt like you were seeing the scene even though you weren’t watching.  
You heard light steps when Draco came from the spot right behind the chimney, stopping at his father’s level.  
Lucius was playing with his hands, feverish, still looking at you – but you wondered what he was seeing, from that distance. He made a movement of the hand towards Dean and Griphook; “Wormtail, bring the two there downstairs.”  
From a dark corner of the huge room, a small man advanced, one of his hands strangely shining under the candelabras.  
With the help of two Death Eaters, he took Dean, who threw you a look, and Griphook out of sight.  
Nothing happened while they were leaving the room, their steps and grunts resounding only.  
Lucius took his son by his right arm and dragged him with him towards the four of you. Of course, he planted him in front of Harry, still face awfully swollen. His neck was too, so much that even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t lift his face.  
But the fact that Harry wasn’t even presenting his face to them didn’t occur to Mr Malfoy; his gaze was on his son.  
He had an insane eagerness on his face, making him look like a mad man.  
Draco’s face was immobile, looking at Harry, without seeing him.  
“So? Draco, is it him?”  
He didn’t answer, and Lucius tightened his grip on his arm, what made Narcissa drew a breath further.  
“Draco?”  
His voice wanted to be sweet, but came out in a stressed plead.  
“I… I…”  
Draco stuttered, starting to have a hard time looking at Harry.  
And it was the first time you heard his voice since so many months, and your guts dropped.  
“I don’t know…”  
He was definitely looking elsewhere now, somewhere in front of him.  
Lucius let out a pitiful squeal, but didn’t lose track.  
“It’s okay, Draco, it’s okay. Maybe you’ll recognize the others, right? The Weasley boy and the Mudblood?”  
Still hand firmly clawing at his arm, he dragged him at the start of the line the four of you were constituting.  
You were still looking at your blurry reflection in the marble of the floor, the two Malfoys’ shoes arriving in your sight right in front of you.  
It was too hard.  
You had forgotten the physical pain.  
Your cheek, your scalp, your head; you weren’t feeling anything anymore.  
It felt like your heart was the only thing present in your body, beating faster than ever, throwing itself on your ribcage.  
You heard Lucius ask his son if he recognized you.  
In his refusal to speak, someone had apparently lost patience and walked towards you, heels clapping on the floor. The person got around you and stopped.  
Suddenly, five nails scratched your scalp while gripping your hair and violently lifted your face.  
Your neck made a weird noise under the sudden movement, and you hissed, closing your eyes. You felt a hot breath in your neck, and the hair of the person holding you tickled your cheek. She – you assumed it was a she to the laugh she produced – clapped her tongue on her palate, apparently delighted of the distraction you provided.  
Lucius was still roaming his son’s face with his eyes, and Draco still looking at a point in front of him.  
“Draco… Look at her… Please…”  
And he obliged.  
Draco’s grey eyes fell on your face.  
You opened your eyes.  
One second.  
Two seconds.  
Three seconds.  
Behind you, you felt the woman move to the side to look at you and study your face.  
“Lucius, they know each other.”  
Mr Malfoy seemed annoyed by this remark and threw her a dark look: “Of course they know each other, Bellatrix, they certainly shared classes in Hogwarts.”  
His gaze went back on Draco, but came back to you when he saw movements by the corner of his eye. Bellatrix had passed her arm around your middle and arms, and had lifted you with a remarkable strength. You felt her grab her wand from the inside of her robes and put it on your neck, as she would do with a dagger.  
Draco drew a breath, his aunt’s lips curling into a mischievous smirk. She said, to answer Lucius’ questioning look: “She is not the Mudblood who always follows Potter like a dog. It’s her.”  
With her chin, she designated Hermione, still on her knees on the floor, who settled down.  
Behind you, you heard Scabior say to his neighbour: “What would a Mudblood do with a sword full of gold and rubies? I-”  
Bellatrix Lestrange removed her arm from your middle, which made your strengthless body crash on the floor. Still in front of you, Draco clenched his fists to prevent himself from moving.  
“What did you say?”  
Scabior blinked and got back under Bellatrix’s urgent voice.  
“I- I wondered why someone like her would carry-”  
“Where is it?”  
The Death Eater drew a breath and pointed at the spot where the material they found in the tent had been put.  
You heard quick steps on the tiles and precipitate breathings: “I- I need to… Lucius, send them in the cave. I need to think.”  
“Bellatrix, this is _my_ house-”  
“DO IT!”  
Lucius Malfoy swallowed sourly and made a gesture of the hand toward the four of you.  
“Draco, Wormtail, take them downstairs.”  
“Wait.”  
The witch turned and eyed you.  
“Except the girls.”  
Harry and Ron were taken, under shouts and protests, somewhere downstairs with Dean and Griphook as Bellatrix Lestrange threateningly started to turn around Hermione and you.


	5. The Escape

“ _CRUCIO_!”  
Your insides contorted and your back rose from the ground.  
You opened your mouth, but no sound came out – your mind was blank, unable to form any thought.  
Bellatrix was persuaded you had entered her vault in Gringotts to steal Gryffindor’s sword.  
It wasn’t true, absolutely not; but you couldn’t tell her the truth.

She had entered in unbelievable anger, throwing you and Hermione the Cruciatus Curse between her questions. She wanted to know how, when, and what else you had taken breaking into the Bank, but of course, none answer suited her.  
Lucius and his wife had gotten back, out of your sight, and Draco had taken back his place near the chimney, face towards the marble.  
The first thing you saw when she moved back her wand and you senses reconnected was Hermione, laying half-conscient on the other side of the room, a droplet of blood beading on the word engraved on her skin.  
Bellatrix seemed to get tired of you and went back to Hermione. She eyed her form with disdain.  
“I think that we don’t need her anymore. Greyback, you can take her if you want.”  
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”  
The scream was enough for you to move your head to the side.  
Ron burst out of nowhere in the living-room, disarming Bellatrix, her wand landing in Harry’s hand right behind him.  
“ _Stupefy_!”  
You went on your hands painfully and heard Lucius Malfoy fall on the ground in a loud thud after the red lightning hit him.  
“STOP OR SHE DIES!”  
Bellatrix had caught Hermione by her waist, looking like a puppet in her arms. She had taken a dagger out of her pocket, putting it right on her neck.  
“Your wands on the floor!”  
Ron and Harry exchanged a look. They lowered their arms slowly and were about to drop them when a squeak made all of you lift your faces.  
“What…”  
In a crystal clanging, the huge chandelier unhinged from the ceiling, started to fall right on Bellatrix and Hermione.  
She violently pushed Hermione on the side, making her stumble. Ron and Harry ran towards her, dragging her half-fainted body further.  
Bellatrix wasn’t fast enough to avoid the chandelier though, the metallic structure falling on the tail of her robes, preventing her to run away, making a rain of broken crystal fall around her.  
You were watching the scene mouth agape when you heard Harry scream your name.  
“y/n!”  
It was like you were watching the scene in slow-motion.  
On the other side of the crashed chandelier, Hermione was half on Ron, her legs threatening to give up at any moment. Harry was holding her weak hand, his other in… Dobby’s?  
But you hadn’t time to question the house-elf’s presence.  
In your way, Bellatrix cursed, a part of her dress still trapped as she struggled to get away.  
Harry, Ron and Dobby were looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to run to then to disappear. You pushed on your feet and hands to get up, your head spinning, steadied yourself, and took a second to look at Draco.  
He was standing next to an overthrown couch, agape too.  
You started to move, feeling like you were evolving in marshmallow.  
The living room was large, seeming bigger than before.  
“NO!”  
Bellatrix had shouted, seeing them ready to go, and started to ruffle in her pocket. You turned your head towards her, and saw her hand slide off the clothes; between her fingers, something was gleaming.  
A cold shiver ran down your spine.  
You turned back your head to your friends; it looked like the room was expanding.  
They seemed out of reach.  
You shouted: “Dobby, leave now!”  
The house-elf’s globular eyes stared at you, and you turned to Harry.  
“ _Now_!”

The slow-motion effect stopped, time catching up like a relaxed elastic; Harry’s Adam apple bobbled in his throat, and he imperceptibly pressed Dobby’s arm. His eyes widened right after, like he was shocked by his own action. Ron’s gaze alternated between you and him, and when he got what was about to happen, he drew a breath and opened his mouth, but nothing came out.  
“NO!”  
Bellatrix’s scream cut the atmosphere, but you weren’t looking at her, still running, even though you knew you wouldn’t leave the Manor.  
Dobby closed his eyes to concentrate on the Shell Cottage, and you readied yourself to see them disappear when something heavy suddenly hit you from your side.

You fell hard on the marbled floor – mindlessly noting you had heard them disappearing – the weight on you compressing you and preventing you to breathe for a second.  
That’s when you opened your eyes that you saw Draco’s body right above you.  
He was on you, breathing so deeply your dishevelled hair flew on your face.  
His planted his urged grey eyes in yours and said, not louder than in a whisper: “Do as I say, okay? Follow me.”  
He waited a second, and you nodded.  
What else could you do?  
Your reason was asking you why you decided to trust him, but something in his look had convinced you.  
 _Let’s hope you were right._  
He got up in a swift movement, and you pushed on your hands to sit. Your back was a bit sore from the fall, but nothing to see with your violent headache. You watched him go behind your back and pass an arm around your middle to put you on your feet. He then passed it around your neck, his free arm clamping your own arm against your body, to provide an apparent grip. His movements were a bit harsh, but seemed the sweetest ministrations compared to what you had experienced earlier.  
Your position gave you a global vision of the scene: you couldn’t see any of the Death Eaters anymore – even Greyback had left the stage. Narcissa was trying to help her now conscient husband to get up, but Lucius Malfoy’s gaze was fixed on Draco.  
But the first to react was Bellatrix, freed in a tearing noise. Her eyes were wide open, but it wasn’t anger on her face; it was surprise and anxiousness. She walked towards you, but kept a good meter between you and her.  
“Draco… What… What did you do?”  
Even in that situation, you found her reaction a bit exaggerated.  
He had captured you, in a way, no?  
You heard him gulp right next to your ear, and he said, like if he had read your mind: “I captured her!” He added, as an argument: “Potter’s certainly coming ba-”  
“Potter would have stayed here if she had been _stabbed by me_!”  
It looked like anger had found a way to reach her.  
You blinked, not getting it, and felt Draco’s grip lightly tighten around you.  
Bellatrix continued, shaking from rage: “I threw my dagger towards her back, Draco, and if my plan had worked, his stupid, little hero-complexed persona would still be here under my wand-”  
She suddenly stopped, her attention momently dragged somewhere else.  
“My wand! Where’s my wand?!”  
“Where is the dagger?”  
Your voice came out raspy and low, due to you not talking for a while – maybe hours, you had lost the track of time.  
Bellatrix turned back and looked at you. At first, she just eyed you, her turn to not understand what you said. She glanced at the living-room, especially the spot where Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dobby were not even five minutes ago.  
When she looked back at you, a horrible grin was cutting her lips.  
She had done the same conclusion in her head: the dagger she had thrown towards you wasn’t on the floor – nor planted in the opposite wall.  
As it hadn’t been stopped by your body, it had carried on its trajectory, right in your friends’ direction.  
And thus disappearing with them.  
Your knees nearly gave up and you let out a painful cry, similar to Hermione’s previous ones. Draco was preventing you to crash on the floor more than stopping you from escaping.  
Bellatrix’s laughs rose into the space, and you felt Draco’s chest vibrate through you: “You couldn’t kill him!”  
His aunt stopped and laid her eyes on him. He added: “The Dark Lord wanted him alive!”  
She imperceptibly shook her head, like if she had seen something that didn’t exist: “What tells you it’s Potter?” She looked at you, and took back her grin: “Could have been this filthy mudbloo-”  
“He’s coming.”  
The three of you looked at Lucius.  
He was still on his knees, half-bent, holding his forearm, fist clenched, shaking.  
Narcissa looked at his son, and Bellatrix forgot you. She took her head in her hands, lips moving but no sounds getting out.  
It was suddenly calm – but not a peaceful one.  
During months, you’ve been running away from him; but now, it seemed more real than ever.  
Maybe because you were now the target?  
So, that’s how Harry felt…  
Voldemort would be here in the minute, and you were even surprised he wasn’t already there.  
He would be angry; it was the second time since the start of the year he had been _really_ close to getting Harry.  
But today…  
Today, you were there.  
You, and all your plans in your mind, and your will wouldn’t do much against Lord Voldemort’s _Imperius_.  
Bellatrix walked towards his brother-in-law and started to talk vividly, but you weren’t listening.  
“Where’s your wand?”  
Draco took a second to acknowledge you were talking to him.  
“I… I don’t know, lost in the fight, it certainly rolled under the couch we were close to… Wait, I can see my mother’s. Near the table.”  
Lightly lighter than the ground, you spotted Narcissa Malfoy’s wand, below a small table, pushed back against the end of the room like the other pieces of furniture.  
It was really close to you, and without changing your position, you walked to the side to it.  
“…and the girl?”  
“Lucius, she can be useful.”  
“We could say we called _him_ for her only? That we found her into the woods, that we know she’s close to the boy and found it relevant to call the Dark Lord himself to show her to him… Can be useful…”  
Lucius Malfoy’s cowardness would have usually made you clench jaws, but you were busy making the slowest movements possible to not attract gazes on you. Draco eventually crouched and picked up his mother’s wand.  
“… _where is my wand?_ ”  
“I don’t know Bellatrix, Potter certainly took it!” Lucius Malfoy let out a tired sigh. “But it looks like they forgot one. Near the couch.”  
Pissed, Bellatrix walked loudly towards the couch and grabbed…  
Your wand.  
For the second time of the night, it was just there below your eyes, but desperately out of reach. The witch eyed it, and threw it a look of disdain.  
“Draco, my son, come here.”  
Narcissa had spoken in a soft voice, calling her son near her for the approach of their master. By speaking, she had brought back the attention on you, but they didn’t seem to notice you had moved a bit to the side.  
You turned your head; the corridor leading to the door was right there.  
Your only escape ticket, as disappearing inside the house was impossible.  
“He’s close, I feel my mark getting hotter…”  
“Draco. Come he-”  
Narcissa blinked, and a wave of surprise crossed her tensed, anxious face: “Draco, you found my wand!” She let out a breath; small relief in those times.  
“Give it back, Draco.”  
You weren’t really paying attention to those stories of wands right now.  
You had to leave…  
But how?  
Three Death Eaters were surrounding you.  
Narcissa’s pleading call to her son made you look back at her, and at your side, you saw him lift his hand.  
She smiled and started to walk, reached out her hand, but-  
“ _Accio_ _y/n’s wand_!”  
Your wand flew from her fingers, and Draco caught it.  
“ _Petrificus totalus_!”  
White lights escaped both wands, Bellatrix Lestrange straightened herself like a block of ice before falling on the ground in a loud thud without being able to do much under the power of both weapons, her wand in Hermione’s hands miles away, her dagger out of use.  
Lucius rose on his feet and palmed his robes, before remembering his wand was in other hands too.  
Your jaw dropped; next thing you knew, Draco was shoving your wand in your hand and grabbed your other.  
That’s when you had to run to follow him that you suddenly reconnected with your senses.  
You heard screams behind you, soon muffled by the walls between you and the rest of the family. Draco opened the huge front door and both descended the front steps.  
You passed next to the abandoned trolley you had arrived in, the gravel amplifying the sound of your running.  
You were midway to the gates when Draco suddenly stopped.  
You threw him a questioning look and he let go of your hand, taking you by the shoulders. He was talking fast, out of breath: “Run! Once you passed the barrier, you can disappear, the protection spells stop there-”  
“But you’re coming with me!”  
He blinked and looked at you.  
“I can’t.”  
“Why?”  
From outside, this scene was very stupid, and you could nearly see Hermione rolling her eyes while assisting to this.  
Voldemort was about to burst into the Malfoy’s living room at any moment, seeing that Harry Potter had once again escaped him, that his best soldier was petrified by Lucius Malfoy’s seventeen-year-old son on the floor, a potential source of information just gone away and you were there, rambling in Draco’s front yard.  
“Draco, if you enter back the house, you’re _done_.”  
“y/n, it’s been a while that I’m done. It’s too late.”  
His words cut your breath, you opened your mouth but nothing came out.  
A silence fell, interrupted by the peacock’s noise of his tail brushing the grass, further away.  
You grabbed his hand and pressed tight.  
“You’re not like them, Draco. You’re not your father.”  
It was still dark outside, but far in the horizon, you could spot the dark blue was slowly taking a lighter colour.  
He swallowed, and said weakly: “How can you say that after everything I’ve done?”  
“Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t have saved me, nor given me my wand back, nor helped me to escape his house.”  
You swallowed.  
“Nor lying when clearly recognizing Harry Potter on the floor of his fucking house!”  
You both looked at each other, still holding his hand, and you wondered when was the last time you had had such an intimate moment together.  
You saw something pass in his grey eyes, his features seemed to relax imperceptibly, the wrinkle between his eyebrows there for long months disappearing. He opened his mouth, and-  
His eyes widened all at once.  
“ _No_!”  
He raised his wand, and you turned in a second, wand raised too, letting go of his hand.  
You were expecting to see Draco’s parents, Bellatrix, or, even, Voldemort himself; but you saw nothing in the dim light on the doorstep at first. But a movement on the ground made your eyes lower; and your guts dropped.  
Now in the gravel of the path, making it screech awfully below its rings, a huge snake was advancing towards you.  
It took you a second to realise you weren’t dreaming and throw: “ _Confringo_!”  
The explosion bounced on the reptile like if you had thrown a caoutchouc ball on it, but the harmless action didn’t go appreciated. The snake opened his mouth, hissing, and after stopping a moment, slid faster toward you.  
You raised your wand once again, but this time it’s Draco who grabbed your hand, both of you starting to run at the same time.  
“ _Stupefy_!”  
You threw the spell above your shoulder, aiming at the snake’s head; what had the only result to make it get angrier.  
Threateningly, it straightened itself, getting closer to you, increasing its speed.  
The gates were so close…  
“Draco!”  
Narcissa’s pleading, but anxious voice shouted.  
“Draco, if you stop now, it won’t hurt you!”  
The cold air of the night was nearly hurting your lungs in your heaving chest.  
Draco’s hand tightened yours, and he rose his hand flatly in front of him, ready to push the metallic bars.  
Behind you, the gravel was making more noise as the snake was dangerously approaching.  
Each little rock pushed away by its rings sounded like a countdown.  
The air battled at your temples.  
“ _Draco_!”  
But it’s you who turned back.  
And it’s not Narcissa’s pale figure you saw on the doorstep, because there was something in your way.

Your eyes widened at the same time to snake opened its huge mouth, fangs gleaming under the pale light of the early morning. It was so close you only saw the inside of it, and stopped to breathe.  
Something squealed, and you first thought it was the sound of the snake closing its teeth on you.  
You closed your eyes, and felt yourself getting drawn.


	6. Into the Woods

“ _Cave Inimicum_ … _Fianto Duri_ …”  
Unconsciously copying Hermione’s idea of months ago, Draco had led you into the forest near the Quidditch Cup had taken place more than three years ago.  
You hadn’t lost time to enchant your surroundings, repeating what you had heard Hermione say one day.  
 _Let’s hope you had cast it well_.  
When you had drawn a circle around you, you turned to Draco.  
He was absentmindedly observing you, Narcissa Malfoy’s wand dangling from between two of his long fingers.  
He said in a weak voice: “Where did you learn those charms? Flitwick never taught us about them.”  
You smiled weakly.  
“There are a lot of things I learned by myself during those last months.”  
But that’s only now you acknowledged so much had happened since the last time you _really_ saw Draco.  
You lifted your face and eyed the trees.  
The day had risen now, and a shy sun was shining through grey clouds, but the wet grass and fallen leaves at your feet told you it had heavily rained here during the night.  
Then it hit you; once again, you were running away.  
But the thing was; you hadn’t any tent to sleep in, nor clothes, nor-  
“I didn’t kill him, you know.”  
You blinked and eyed him, not getting what he was talking about.  
“What?”  
“Dumbledore. The Dark Lord had asked me to kill him, last year. I had to do it, or he would have hurt my family.” His Adam apple bobbled in his throat. “Or you.”  
You swallowed.  
“I had to take distance, you know. To do it. But once in the Astronomy Tower, it hit me. Of course, Dumbledore had figured it out before me, but how could I have admitted he was right? It was too late.”  
“I know. Harry told me Snape killed him.” Your voice had come out choked. “But why didn’t you join us? After getting out of the Astronomy-”  
“I couldn’t! I couldn’t.”  
You scoffed: “Couldn’t what? Those Death Eaters would kill you if they felt it that way, and without any hesitation! They’re not your friends, Draco, they don’t care about you-”  
“I’m not talking about that. You, Hermione, Dean, Luna, the Weasleys… You’ve all reached for a level of magic I, or the other students cannot fight against. You all directly knew where I’ve been and what I had done, I had no chance against you.”  
“They wouldn’t have had killed you, by Merlin!”  
He scoffed: “Well, I’m not sure! Tell me in what state of mind was Potter at that moment? I had to choose between bursting amongst Dumbledore’s Army knowing, or a bunch of Death Eaters technically on my side.”  
You decided to not say you were all under _Felix Felicis_ during the fight, and let out a breath. You understood his reasoning, but…  
“And your chosen option was to run away?”  
He paused. You looked at each other.  
He lifted his head, and looked around.  
“Seems like today, I took the right decision to run away, no?”  
You closed your eyes.  
“You’re not fair. I’m completely unable to be mad at you. At least, right now.”  
You heard him walk towards you on the wet ground, and lifted your head. He opened his arms, and you dove in it.

You spent a good part of the day talking.  
A lot.  
About the Horcruxes, about the Deathly Hallows, about the Ministry of Magic, about Place Grimmauld…  
It rained at a moment, and you sat under the Impervius Charm on a tree stump when you were at the moment of your story where you told him Ron had left after keeping the locket for a bit too long.  
Draco had puffed, opening his mouth to say something but you had nudged at him, feeling the commentary would be irrelevant.  
At the start of the afternoon, rain stopped and the sun shone warmly, caressing your faces in a pleasant way.  
“Where do you think they are, now?”  
You thought.  
“I don’t know. Maybe still hiding in forests. Or, Ron had talked about Bill having a cottage, near the sea… We thought about going back to Hogwarts, but I doubt Dobby took them there.”  
You sighed.  
And you?  
Where were you about to go?  
You couldn’t stay here, trapped in the little protective bubble forever.  
Resuming your story, you stopped suddenly.  
“Tell me, Draco…”  
He hummed, playing with a stick.  
“Can you… Can you produce a patronus?”  
The silver doe was about to appear in your tale, and you had thought about your suspicion, but as soon as he looked at you, you regretted your question. His face fell a bit, insecure: “You know I can’t do that advanced magic, y/n.”  
You jumped on your feet and extended your hand to make him get up.  
“Right, then I’ll teach you.”  
He blinked: “You’re going to teach me the Patronus Charm?”  
You nodded, grinning.  
He eventually took your hand and got up.  
Embarrassed, he passed his hand at the back of his neck: “You know, I’ve already tried to produce one. A lot of time, actually. And it never worked.”  
“Well, you’re lucky you’ve got a member of Dumbledore’s Army as a private teacher.”  
He scoffed, and proudly tried to repress a laugh.  
“It’s not-”  
You crossed your arms and cut him: “You need to focus on a pleasant memory.”  
You laid back against a tree, and tilted your head to the side expectantly.  
Around you, the day was already falling.  
He sighed and gave up.  
“ _Right_.”  
He drew a breath and extended his arm, his mother’s wand aiming at an invisible target.  
“Remember. Pleasant memory… and focus.”  
He closed his eyes, frowned, and said: “ _Spero Patronum_!”  
But nothing happened, and his arm fell heavily at his side when he opened his eyes, seeing nothing had appeared.  
“See?”  
“Draco, I know it’s hard. It’s advanced magic, and plus it’s not your wand. You didn’t disarm your mother, so it doesn’t really belong to you.”  
His face fell, and you realised what you just said wasn't much encouraging.  
You joined him, the humid grass making sponge noises below your feet. He lowered his face to look at you.  
“Try again. I’ll do it at the same time, mirror me, right?”  
He nodded, and still face to him, you extended your wand and looked in front of you.  
“At three?”  
You heard him hum.  
“One… Tw- Draco, look ahead. Two… _Three_! _Spero Patronum_!”  
In silver filaments at first, the animal materialized itself like it was hopping out of your wand. It advanced a bit in the air above the ground, and turned its head right and left, turning around you. Seeing there wasn’t anything to protect you from, it peacefully walked away.  
You were smiling, and turned your head.  
From the dark wooden wand had escaped silver heavy smoke, momentary staying in front of him and slowly disappearing in the air.  
Once again, he let his shoulders fall and sighed but you let out a victorious shout: “You did it! It was an informal patronus, but it was one!”  
Draco didn’t really share your excitement, but seeing you happy made a shy smile appear on his face nonetheless.  
“Try again.”  
“You’re sure? I mean-”  
You shrugged: “What? You’ve got a lot of other things to do?” You made a step towards him and added: “We can go mushrooms-picking after, if you want, but try it again.”  
“Alright, alright!” He couldn’t repress a smile this time and extended his arm again, but kept looking at you. He drew a particularly deep breath and his torso met your chest, making you realise you were, in fact, really close.  
You took his waiting for hesitation and repeated the instructions: “Don’t forget. First, happy memory. Second, focus. Third…”  
You turned your head only to look at his hand holding the wand. You put yours in your pocket to free your fingers and circled his wrist, steadying his hesitant grip.  
You looked back at him.  
“Third, the spell and draw a circle with your wrist.”  
Your fingers drove his wrist in a small circle, making him feel the correct movement.  
You nodded slowly – you were afraid that in a rawer movement, you would have bumped your forehead in his nose.  
He repeated, not louder than in a whisper: “First, happy memory. Secondly, focus. Third, the spell.”  
You forced yourself to not lower your gaze and keep it on his eyes.  
“The thing is, y/n, I don’t think I choose good enough memories.”  
You blinked, not expecting that remark.  
“Well, think about one of the numerous times you beat Harry’s ass, I don’t know.”  
He puffed, but soon took back a serious tone.  
“I’m serious.”  
“Me too. Well, then pick another.”  
“I can pick another?”  
You scoffed: “Of course, Draco, you can pi-”  
He lowered his face and picked your lips between his.  
He closed his eyes, and it took you a moment to process what was happening, but as soon as your heart started to beat faster, you closed your eyes too. His free arm circled your back, and your hand that was still on his wrist went up his still extended arm to tangle itself in his hair.  
You were too focused on something else right now to pay attention to your surroundings, but you imperceptibly felt Draco move his arm, and a soft pale light go through your eyelids. It’s the heat you suddenly felt coming from your side – and, maybe, the need to breathe again – that made you break the kiss and open your eyes again.  
After looking at each other for a moment, you turned your head and your eyebrows raised: further on the grass, lighter, brighter, more magical than the one you had seen in his front yard, a silver peacock was looking at you. He eyed both of your forms, moved his wings and then started to beak at the ground.  
“Oh my- Draco! You did it!”  
An unmasked joy was illuminating his face, and he bit his lip.  
“You produced a patronus, and a nonverbal one!”  
You couldn’t believe it.  
A hot wave crossed your body, and you caught his face to make him look at you.  
“Don’t ever tell me…”  
Words died in your throat and you turned your face, your attention suddenly stung.  
You frowned.  
Draco’s patronus had lifted its elegant head, extending its neck. The peacock made two graceful, but quick steps and after brushing the wettened ground with its long tail, lifted it. It was heavy, and the long feathers took time to part like an enormous bright silver fan.  
You would have found the show magnificent if a bad presentment didn’t go down your spine like a cold droplet of water.  
Your hand clawed at Draco’s side, but neither of you dared to move.  
You had enchanted the surroundings, drawing up an invisible, protective bubble around you.  
What could happen?  
The peacock was watching ahead of him, – and you – the two feathers of his head straight like antennas.  
The feathers of his tail moved slowly, like waves, the eyes on it gleaming more than the rest of the form.  
That’s when he started to move its wings threateningly that you said in a chocked voice: “We should-”  
And then you saw it.  
You saw it and you _felt_ it at the same time.  
The peacock’s wings and feathers battled more, but its glowing started to fade away, yet you didn’t need more light to spot, dark shadow in the dark blue sky of the start of the night, slightly hovering above the ground, a Dementor.  
One of its putrefied hand was gripping at his ragged robes, slowly getting back in front of the patronus, but not escaping as it felt the protective spell was losing its power.  
You felt the little hair of the back of your neck erect and a cold shiver run down your spine. Your guts froze, like a frozen hand had gripped your waist and all the joy you had felt not even two minutes ago slowly slipped away.  
But you managed to grab it by the end of your fingers and gathered all your strength to shout: “ _Spero Patronum_!”  
For the second time of the evening, the animal jumped off your wand and ran in front of you. After chasing the Dementor, it turned back, but instead of coming back to you slowly pacing, it sped towards what was behind you.  
But you didn’t turn back to see.  
No need, in a way.  
You found Draco’s hand and closed your eyes, concentrating the best you could.


	7. Always There to Welcome You Home

Your patronus.  
It had certainly been that.  
The silver form had passed through the charms to wander in the forest before disappearing, but it was enough for you to be spotted.  
“I’ve been so stupid.”  
But you didn’t have time to blame yourself out loud: as soon as your four feet touched the ground of Hogsmeade, a horrible, high-pitched scream perforated your ears.  
Draco had chosen to land in front of the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade, that you recognized in the dim light of the night.  
“Shit, they certainly drew a Caterwauling Charm on the whole village, to alert if someone appeared here!”  
Still holdings hands, your first reflex was, once again, to run.  
You were at the end of Hogsmeade, but you heard shouts and saw shadows appear as lights were switched on in the main street. In a minute, you were on the path towards Hogwarts, but what to do?  
You couldn’t burst in the enclosure of the castle like that, and you bet there were alarming spells on the surroundings too.  
“Here!”  
You had arrived in front of the Forbidden Forest and jumped behind a bush.  
From where you were, you saw lights from wands and torches in Hogsmeade, but apparently no one had decided to throw a look on the path towards here.  
But it wouldn’t be long.  
“We need to move.”  
“But to go where?”  
You paused.  
“We could walk and at least go near Hagrid’s hut.”  
It took you ten minutes to reach for it, not entering too deep into the forest and not staying visible from the grounds.  
You lifted your face towards the castle. Some rooms where enlightened, and you could notice the muffled light of the torches of the corridors by the windows.  
From the outside, everything seemed alike since last year.  
Draco whispered: “How can we enter the castle? We must infiltrate the thing.”  
You couldn’t help but smile and press yourself against him.  
For you, entering the castle wasn’t the most difficult part of it.  
It would be hard, but doable.  
But once inside?  
It was impossible for you to, from one day to another, reappear between the other students like you had followed every class since September.  
You glanced around.  
Everything was silent.  
Without exchanging a word, you started to walk and went out of the forest.  
When you stepped on the grass of the castle’s grounds, you stopped a second, nearly expecting an alarm, like the one in Hogsmeade, would ring.  
But nothing happened.  
No noise in the night, except an owl hooting somewhere.  
You started again.  
You were walking fast, exposed, in the middle of the grounds, looking right and left, tensed. Without talking about it, each of you had their second hand tightly holding your wands in your pockets.  
The castle was close.  
Really close.  
You even stopped to watch around and looked back at the gates, when-  
“STUDENTS OUTSIDE!”  
You didn’t recognize the voice who had shouted, but you froze.  
It only lasted a second though; your blood suddenly boiled and you grabbed Draco’s hand. You started to run towards the castle.  
You glanced to the side: the person who had spotted you was running in your direction.  
“Quick!”  
You started to get good at covering fast a rather small distance, and jumped in the stone steps. You let go of each other to push the huge doors at four hands. You burst into the hall and stopped.  
“The room of Requirement!”  
Draco had just gasped, having an illumination, his voice resounding below the high ceiling.  
You glanced above your shoulder; no time to discuss about your destination.  
“It’s on the seventh floor, we have to be quick!”  
You passed in front of the Great Hall running and climbed the first stairs when you heard several voices on the ground floor.  
You were going so quick the flames of the torches swayed under your passage.  
You were only on the third floor that you were already out of breath; your heavy breathings and your steps resonating against the stone walls were the only sounds troubling the silence.  
Characters in paintings were stopping their occupations to watch you run; a fat man even let his glass of wine fall on his huge belly when you started to climb the stairs to the fifth floor.  
“Nearly… there…”  
“HAHA!”  
You were turning at a corner when a high-pitched laugh made you stop in your track. Your heart, already beating fast, skipped a beat as Peeves hovered in front of you, gaze alternating between both of you. His smile was spreading visibly.  
Words spaced by deep breaths, Draco said: “Can’t you… just… go and bother… Filch?”  
“Oooooh, my little boy, I have here in front of me far more interesting subjects!”  
The poltergeist turned on himself like a spin before eyeing the surroundings, looking for a tool.  
Your mind was racing; you too turned your head right and left before spotting it; the Prefect’s Bathroom, a bit further away.  
Peeves weren’t looking at you and you grabbed Draco by his sleeve, pointing at the wooden door. He threw you a worried look; yes he had been a Prefect, but in what odds would the password be the same than last year?  
Yet that night, for the first time for months, luck was on your side and when Draco pronounced the password, the lock made a clicking noise. You lost no time opening it and shoved Draco in, closing the door the quicker but the most silently you could.  
You let out a breath and let yourself slide against the tile wall.  
You heard Peeves shout: “NO! WHERE ARE YOU? I SAW-”  
“Peeves!”  
You gasped and looked at Draco.  
The scene was happening on the other side of the door, the wooden material only separating you.  
“Peeves, can I know the reason of all this noise in the middle of the night?”  
McGonagall’s annoyed, but strict voice came to your ears like she was right next to you.  
The poltergeist clapped his tongue and said, mild pissed, mild amused: “Malfoy! y/l/n! Right there, a minute ago! Vanished!”  
The professor didn’t answer directly.  
“Malfoy and y/l/n haven’t put a foot in this castle since last June, Peeves. They couldn’t-”  
“I saw them!” He laughed. “As clever as before! Certainly entered a classroom or hidden behind a statue!”  
“There isn’t any statue big enough to hide a grown student here, and… Wait. _Hominum Revelio_!”  
You closed your eyes like your form would suddenly start to ring to notify your presence, but nothing happened. You opened them and looked at Draco.  
You whispered: “Are those toilets protected against this charm?”  
“I… don’t know… Why would it?”  
“See, Peeves? No one.”  
The poltergeist grunted, and murmured things under his breath, his voice getting harder to hear as he was leaving the corridor.  
But you didn’t move.  
You hadn’t heard any steps, meaning McGonagall hadn’t left.  
She said, low but loud enough: “Mister Malfoy? Miss y/l/n?”  
Draco and you looked at each other.  
There wasn’t any doubt McGonagall would be at your side, but it was too dangerous to reveal yourselves now. Both of you seemed to think the same, and you didn’t move.  
You now heard muffled steps, cushioned by slippers, and saw, by the slit below the door, a shadow approaching.  
You heard a rubbing noise, like she was putting her hand against the door.  
She didn’t repeat your names though, and you could nearly guess her shaking her head. You heard her get back, pause a last time, and leave.  
“That was close.”  
Draco let himself fall sat next to you. You were still whispering, but the acoustic of the room made your voices resonate.  
“Snape would have opened the door for sure.”  
You hummed: “And actually cast _Hominum Revelio._ ”  
You let your head fall on his shoulder.  
“What do we do, now? We can’t stay here forever.”  
A student walking on you wasn’t particularly scaring you, but you kept thinking your quest would be done more easily without alerting anyone.  
“I think we should stay here for the night. I suppose they are Death Eaters wandering in the castle since our little walk on the grounds. They didn’t see us, but if they think it’s Potter, I’m surprised I haven’t seen the Dark Lord’s best soldiers burst from every side.”  
You hummed.  
The peaceful atmosphere of the bathroom made you feel like you were in a bubble, protected by the castle. But the thing was; now, even Hogwarts couldn’t do anything for you against Voldemort.  
You suddenly acknowledged you hadn’t slept in days.  
There had been the escapade to the Lovegood’s house…  
The capture in the Malfoy Manor…  
Your escape…  
The day you spent in the woods…  
And then your arrival, certainly chaotic, in Hogwarts.  
Your eyelids were heavy…  
You heard Draco’s deep, calm, steady breathings at your side.  
There was a smell of different kind of soaps in the air, quite changing you from the smell of dirt, grass, wood and rain you had stayed in for… eight months?  
 _Eight months_.  
The weight of time made your shoulders drop.  
By the window, you spotted the ink-blue sky dotted with stars.

You closed your eyes…

And opened them when you felt a hand on your shoulder.  
You had closed them for what… a second? and someone had slid into the bathroom…  
You had effectively opened your eyes, but your sight took time to focus. The sun was shining outside, illuminating the hurt, but happy face some centimetres away from yours, and you had to blink to get used to the light, reverberating on the golden faucets and pipes.  
You blinked again, and you finally recognized who was kneeling right there.  
You gasped, sat straight, what made Draco jump and swallow a snore, putting a hand on his eyes, struggling too.  
“Neville?!”  
He laughed.  
“If this isn’t a surprise!”  
You couldn’t help yourself but throw yourself in his arms. He laughed again, but hissed a bit when you tightened his ribs. You moved back.  
“Are you okay?”  
“Oh, the resistance, you know.” He made a modest movement of the hand. “But you? How did you enter?”  
You quickly summarized the last evening, under Draco’s puzzled expression, still not believing what he was seeing, and finished by asking: “And you? How did you find us?”  
“Oh, it’s simple. Since the start of the year, they aren’t Prefects anymore. Yeah, a decision from the Carrows, the new professors/supervisors of the school. They say they are the only ones allowed to make the _peace reign_.”  
You frowned in disgust, and he carried on: “So, as you guess, those bathrooms aren’t used anymore… And the password hasn’t changed.”  
He smiled at you, and at Draco too, who had sat straight at your side.  
“This morning McGonagall asked Seamus to ask me to check in here during classes, but didn’t want to tell him anything else…”  
He opened arms, showing both of you: “And what a surprise!”  
You blinked.  
“But w- why aren’t you in class?”  
That’s only at that moment you noticed he wasn’t wearing his Gryffindor clothes, but normal ones.  
“Oh, that’s another story. Anyway, we should leave now.”  
He stood, and Draco and you followed him.  
“Where?”  
He winked, then walked towards the door.  
“Somewhere on the seventh floor!”


	8. The Plan

_1 st of May_

After getting out of the Prefect’s Bathroom that morning, like you had understood, Neville had led you to the Room of Requirement.  
After her encounter with Peeves during the night, McGonagall had suspected the truth and had told Seamus Finnigan to ask Neville to come into the bathroom during classes – classes he didn’t attend since a while, like he explained you after.  
All students were in classrooms, and you luckily didn’t meet anyone – not even Mrs Norris – while walking to the seventh floor.  
What you saw when you entered was beyond what you had imagined.  
The room had taken the shape of a perfect oasis, sheltering a good fifteen people.  
Seeing you again, a lot hugged you tight; seeing all of them – seeing people, actually – warmed you and gave you the same amount of energy of a good night of sleep.  
But faces contorted a bit when they saw Draco right behind you.  
It took a lot of explanations and some days for the others to accept him – you even witnessed Ernie McMillan affectively slap his back one evening Neville managed to bring back Firewhisky from the Hog’s Head. Going to sleep later that night, you spotted a green and silver blazon had appeared, completing Hogwarts’ coat of arms on the wall.

It had been a bit less than a month you were in the castle undercover, spending your days, partly, elaborating scenarios to piss off the Carrows the best you could, catching back sleep and finally eating tasty food some students managed to bring back from the kitchens.  
Respecting Harry, you hadn’t told anyone about the Horcruxes – except Draco, already knowing since the woods.  
It didn’t go unnoticed both of you spent long hours speaking together under your breaths, but no one asked about it.  
Even if you didn’t talk about it out loud, the remaining Horcruxes monopolized your minds, and especially Ravenclaw’s item.  
You had already, the most discretely possible, asked questions to the Ravenclaws present here, but nothing satisfying came out.  
“There isn’t plenty of places the item could be in.”  
“Excuse me, y/n? We’re talking about Hogwarts-”  
“And we’re talking about the Dark Lord. The place has a meaning, it can’t be hidden in pipes or behind a tile in the toilets!”  
He hummed.  
“So?”  
“So it’s maybe right below our noses. Ravenclaw’s item… In the Ravenclaw tower.”  
And that’s how you planned to, during a night, go the Ravenclaw tower.  
You waited for the others in the room to sleep and when you heard steady breathings only, both of you silently got up, walking towards the door.  
“Wait.”  
You had put your hand flat on Draco’s chest and your index on your lips.  
At the far end of the room, you saw something move.  
Neville had just sat in his hammock, but he wasn’t looking in your direction.  
At first, you thought he was dreaming, but on the painting at his side, you saw Ariana Dumbledore move her hand and leave down the path. Neville lost no time jumping off his hammock and disappeared behind the frame.  
Okay, that was unexpected.  
“Is he hungry or-”  
But no time to question Neville’s little walk to the Hog’s Head; you had something else to do.  
That’s when the huge doors of the Room of Requirement disappeared on the stone wall and left you uncovered that you never regretted Harry’s Invisibility Cloak so much.  
You had to go down some floors, cross the castle and go up the tower.  
The corridors were awfully peaceful.  
“Right. Let’s go.”  
You were walking fast on your tiptoes.  
The reflection of the orange flames was dancing on your faces, your shadows mimicking your supple walk – you even bent when you passed in your front of windows, to not be seen by other floors.  
You were turning around a corner when your guts dropped in your body; Mrs Norris’ fluffy tail just disappeared in the stairs.  
You let out a breath, looked at Draco, and started to walk again.  
You were close…  
Nearly there.  
Both of you were now walking flush against each other.  
“One more floor.”  
“Ye-”  
“Students out of their dormitory.”  
The sentence had been pronounced on a normal tone, troubling the silence and resonating in the – nearly – empty corridor.  
You had heard those words a lot of times in your life here in the castle, but hearing it this night made your body react in a way it never did.  
Maybe was it because of the calm way it has been said in, not Filch’s usual screaming, trembling voice.  
Both Draco and you turned on your feet slowly.  
Glaring at you, a woman and man were mischievously grinning, arms crossed on their chests.


	9. The Director's Promise

Alecto Carrow’s hand was gripping your arm so tight you swore it was stopping the blood from running down your veins.  
The siblings had caught you so close to your goal and were now dragging you in the opposite direction.  
You had your wands on you, but none of you had tried to resist, maybe too surprised, or knowing it would attract the attention – the castle’s mad poltergeist saying you and Draco had suddenly appeared in the castle was one thing, but two people, who appeared to be on the side of the new director and Voldemort himself saying they had been stupefied by you in a corridor was something else.  
“I think it’s time to visit the Director, isn’t it?”  
Your mind was so tired, so used, so out of place the first emotion you felt was relief.  
 _The Director?_  
 _Dumbledore will know what to do._  
Would.  
Dumbledore _would_ know what to do.  
Truth fell on you like a bucket of cold water.  
Even if you had the feeling he was belonging to your past life, Snape was the very last person you wanted to see right now.  
You threw a look at Draco.  
With a bit of luck, his presence would soften him, even though you weren’t believing it.  
You stopped in front of the well-known gargoyle.  
Amycus cleared his throat, and you noticed an embarrassed expression cross his face. He bent toward the stone statue, like if the password was a secret, and said the word in a low voice.  
You frowned; you’d swear he said ‘Dumbledore’.  
You shook your head.  
The gargoyle turned on itself and the Carrows pushed you inside. They knocked on the wooden door, but didn’t wait for an answer to open it.  
Entering the directorial office, even though not occupied by Dumbledore anymore, made a hot wave spread into your chest. You couldn’t help but glance around – you blinked.  
Nothing had changed.  
Every object, every piece of furniture was at its place.  
“Director? Look who we’ve got here, freshly wandering in the corridors!”  
Using the word ‘freshly’ to design your sweaty, dressed in not-so-clean clothes forms and tired faces was a bit out of place.  
You were so overwhelmed to enter the office that you hadn’t spotted someone standing back to you next to the huge chair behind the desk.  
Still not moving, he said: “Get out.”  
Amycus’ smile disappeared.  
“H- How-”  
Snape turned on himself, but stayed there. He tightened his cape around him.  
“Amycus, Alecto. Thank you for bringing me them here. You’ll be rewarded. I think I need to be alone with our little _friends_.”  
Relieved he hadn’t done anything wrong, he let out a breath and let go of Draco at the same time Alecto released you, making you feel like you had a right arm again.  
You rubbed it and moved your sleeping fingers, throwing the siblings a disgusted look as they turned back and left the office.  
Silence fell.  
Snape’s gaze alternated between both of you, without any taint of surprise, just like he had seen you the day before.  
He moved to the side, showing the painting he was standing in front of – your heart dropped in your chest when you saw the previous director’s peaceful expression in front of the red background of the décor.  
You thought he was going to sit in the chair at first, but passed in front of it. You released a breath: you didn’t know if you could have borne it.  
Despite the situation, you felt awkwardly calm.  
 _What was he going to do, anyway?_  
Give you detention?  
After an impossible wait, Snape finally decided himself to open his mouth when the firepit in the chimney in the corner of the room crippled and green flames suddenly rose.  
The three of you turned your heads, and Snape quickly crossed the room in huge cape movements. He kept a distance between him and the pit, but stood right in your way so you couldn’t see the face appearing in it.  
You clenched your jaw.  
You extended your neck, curious, but Snape straightened himself of all his height to block your view and you threw Draco a pissed look.  
A high-pitched, nearly childish clearing of the throat rose from the chimney.  
Snape crossed his arms on his chest and said flatly: “Mrs Umbridge. It’s always a _pleasure_ to hear from you, but what can I do for you in the middle of the night?”  
Breath got caught in your throat.  
She paused before answering: “Professor, are we alone?”  
Snape let a theatrical silence fall before answering: “Obviously.”  
“Why did I hear voices while arriving here then?”  
You could guess him raise an eyebrow.  
You were in Snape’s office, Dolores Umbridge’s huge head in his firepit, in a castle fallen in the Death Eaters’ hands and you felt strangely in security.  
“Students out of their dormitory. Routine, if I might say.”  
Umbridge hummed and cleared her throat disapprovingly.  
“I already told you the measures I took two years ago should be re-established, Professor.”  
Snape lowered his head slowly.  
“I assume you didn’t come here to talk about this.”  
Umbridge cleared her throat, not appreciating to be put back at her place, but there are things you cannot do when you’re on your knees, ass in the air in your office, head in a firepit miles away.  
“An intruder landed in Hogsmeade again. Earlier tonight. Yaxley said it was the old barman of the Hog’s Head looking for his cat again, but Nott swore he saw a stag walk in the main street.”  
Your eyes widened and your heart skipped a beat.  
Snape, not seeming to be alarmed, said: “A stag activated the Caterwauling Charm in Hogsmeade but the Hog’s Head’s barman said it was his cat?” He sighed. “This old man is completely mad. But I’m starting to think the Ministry chose the wrong people to put charms on Hogsmeade. We’re near the Forbidden Forest, and animals-”  
“It was a Patronus!”  
Umbridge’s voice translated anger.  
“The stag was a Patronus, Severus! And you know well who has a stag as a Patronus!”  
Snape didn’t really appreciate her to call him by his name, and discretely sniffed with disdain.  
“Did you find him then? Did you catch Potter?”  
You swore you heard Umbridge swallow.  
“No.”  
“So, you’re telling me a Patronus no one produced is wandering in Hogsmeade? And a Patronus strangely taking Potter’s one’s form?”  
She didn’t answer, and Snape carried on: “It awfully looks like a diversion.”  
“You think?”  
Curiousness mixed with a tint of excitement filled Umbridge’s voice, making her forget her contempt.  
“A diversion to make us think Potter’s coming back in Hogwarts.”  
“But where is he, then? He must be close.”  
“Certainly.”  
A shiver ran down your spine. You didn’t like it, but you too thought Harry was close. Did he find the track of a Horcrux near here?  
But where?  
The Forbidden Forest?  
“The Forbidden Forest?”  
Snape formulating your thoughts was a very unpleasant feeling, and if you didn’t know Legilimency supposed eye contact, you’d have had doubts.  
Umbridge let out an excited squeal.  
“I’m sending Death Eaters there. I’m sure those hybrids helped him!”  
You turned your head to Draco and said on a low tone – but maybe a bit too loud for the circumstance: “ _We need to go in the forest!_ Now!”  
Umbridge luckily didn’t hear, her head disappearing in a pop!, flames vanishing too.  
You had to do something.  
The apparent calm you had felt ran away. You were boiling, nearly trembling. Nothing was happening right now, but you felt the storm coming.  
Snape turned and made a movement of his wand. You vaguely heard a brushing noise, and Draco pleaded: “Professor-”  
“ _Incarcerous_!”  
At the same time for both Draco and you, ropes appeared around your ankles, making you stumble; at the same moment, something touched the back of your knees, definitely making you lose balance. You fell sat on wooden chairs coming from the end of the room, ropes tying your wrists around the armchairs.  
By the time you realised what had happened, Snape planted himself in front of you.  
“I don’t know how, when, nor whose help you managed to enter the castle with, and how you made it for the Carrows to not recognize you – he looked at Draco with insistence, meaning the ‘you’ was more for him – but you won’t be in my way.”  
You scoffed: “ _Your_ way? It has never been your way! You’re just following orders. Orders from Voldemort, then Dumbledore when he was less than alive, then Voldemort again when Dumbledore died… Isn’t it hard to keep the track, Professor?”  
You shot him with your eyes, pulling at your ties even though you knew it was useless.  
His black irises were piercing you, but it was the only sign of life you perceived on his face.  
“Professor, we have to join Potter.”  
You couldn’t help but turn your head. You didn’t know what surprised you the most; Draco’s voice reminding you he was, in fact, there or the word ‘ _Potter_ ’ used positively in his sentence.  
Snape straightened himself and cocked an eyebrow.  
“You need to join Potter?”  
Draco gulped, and nodded.  
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m personally going to make sure it happens-”  
Not finishing his sentence, he suddenly brought a hand on his left forearm.  
Something crossed his face, and without saying a word, he passed between your chairs and got out of the office.  
Draco blinked: “What the?”  
You lost no time trying to access to your pocket, squirming on your chair.  
“What? You just got _now_ he was completely mad?”  
Your fingers were close to the bottom of your wand… Just a bit further…  
But you didn’t need to force anymore; all at once, the ropes loosened their grip and fell on the floor like dead worms.  
At the same time, both Draco and you got up and turned, now wand well tucked in your hands, pointed at the door.  
There was only one way the Incarcerious Charm ceased: someone had annulled it.  
But no one was there.  
You exchanged a look but didn’t lose time to run outside.  
The corridors were as peaceful as half an hour earlier; but shattered glass and fallen objects made you think something happened, and a shiver ran down your spine.  
You decided to go back to the Room of Requirement, but as you were running down the corridors, you heard muffled sounds from the Great Hall.  
Turning around a corner, you stopped a bit before it and heard it was full of people.  
There was a low murmur, and you recognized McGonagall speaking, but couldn’t seize her words, being too far.  
You looked at Draco and nodded.  
It was maybe time to join the others.  
You started to walk towards the doors when-  
“ _I know you’re about to fight._ ”  
The voice was freezing, high-pitched, like nothing you had heard before.  
You turned your head right and left, but you were alone in the corridor.  
From the Great Hall, some students screamed after a moment of silence.  
“ _Your efforts are delusional. You can’t do anything against me. I don’t wish your deaths. I respect the Professors. I don’t want to pour wizards’ blood._ ”  
A heavy silence fell.  
You looked around once again, but it couldn’t be from here; the voice wasn’t resonating between the stone walls.  
It looked like it was in your head.  
You looked at Draco.  
His terrified expression made you think he was hearing it too.  
“ _Bring me Harry Potter, and no harm will be done. Bring me Harry Potter and I will leave this school intact. Bring me Harry Potter and you’ll be rewarded. You have until midnight._ ”  
The voice seemed to stop, silence swallowing you once again.  
After some seconds, a voice raised.  
Then another.  
People started to talk again in the Great Hall, but both Draco and you were paralyzed.  
At a moment, you heard people started to walk out of the Hall.  
Acting without thinking, you grabbed the first person you recognized by the arm and turned him to face you.  
Fred Weasley blinked: “y/n?”  
“What…”  
You paused, so many questions wanted to come out of your mouth.  
“…what’s going on?”  
He couldn’t help himself but puff and turned to George, who had just joined him.  
“Well, nothing much. About to visit some old secret passages we used to take… And you?”  
You pressed on his arm: “Is Harry here?”  
The twins nodded, still looking amused by your puzzled expression.  
A mix of joy and fear filled you.  
“Where is he?”  
“I don’t know. Sorry.”  
You sighed. “And Ron? Hermione?”  
Fred scratched his hair and George raised his shoulders: “They said they had to go to the toilet.”  
You heard Draco sniff at your side.  
“Excuse me?”  
“y/n, that’s what they said. And don’t act surprised, you too saw-”  
But George cut him: “Fred, our brother’s adventures in the toilets are very interesting – he turned to you – I swear, we’ve got plenty to tell you, but we’ve got a castle to defend.”  
Fred nodded: “Right.”  
The twins winked at you and turned towards the stairs.  
You shouted: “Good luck!”  
Fred Weasley turned his head, a smile on his face, and shouted back: “See you later!”  
And both disappeared to the first floor.


	10. Un Unfortunate Meeting

You had been delayed, but your objective was still the same: joining the Room of Requirement.  
Hadn’t it helped you every time you were lost?  
But the path was long: you had seven floors plenty of freshly arriving Death Eaters to cross.  
You were running on the second one when-  
“ _Stupefy_! Pay attention, y/n!”  
You heard a thud and turned to see a man in purple robes fall on the floor, his wand rolling below a statue.  
Neville was running too, wand pointed, and passed next to you towards a corridor. You spotted he had two pots of Mandrakes below his armpit.  
“Their ears aren’t ready!”  
But right when he disappeared around a corner, two Death Eaters burst out of the stairs.  
“ _AVAD-_ ”  
“ _Protego_!”  
Draco’s Protective Spell was so powerful the man fell and it made the second one stumble, but he definitely fell down the steps after you stupefied him.  
You lost no time going up, still running for dear life.  
“Watch out!”  
Other Death Eaters were climbing stairs behind you, but Hagrid’s enormous form coming from ahead of you pushed you to side.  
You fell on your asses, seeing the half-giant pushing the enemies back in a movement of the hand.  
“Hagrid! You need help-”  
“No! Carreh on, Grawp is comin’!”  
Draco caught your hand and got you up, disappearing upstairs.  
From everywhere, green, red and white lights were coming from all sides. You spotted unknown faces, friends, people you only crossed in the corridors, people you shared classes with but didn’t know their names, professors, adults, very young – too – people, Death Eaters, more Death Eaters…  
A charm passed right next to your ear and deafened you for a second.  
“ _Stupefy_! Don’t worry y/n, I got you!”  
You saw Luna’s blond head propel the Death Eater against a wall and run towards a bunch of arriving ones.  
“There!”  
You had finally reached the seventh floor.  
You said to Draco: “If Harry’s not in the Room where everything’s hidden, then I don’t-”  
But you weren’t able to finish your sentence.  
The Charm knocked you out and you fell on the ground. As your attacker wasn’t pleased with your state, he added: “ _Incarcerous_!”  
You felt, for the second time of the night, ropes form themselves around your body.  
“What are you doing?!”  
Draco was still standing, but disarmed, hands at his shoulders’ level.  
“You’re a traitor.”  
Goyle and Crabbe were further in the corridor. The last one had two wands in his hand, his and Narcissa Malfoy’s.  
“But thank to her, we know how to get _him,_ now.”  
You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t.  
Draco opened his mouth, but a red spark passed right next to his head.  
From your position, you couldn’t see who threw it, but heard someone fall and a gasp.  
“ _Incarcerious_! _Finite Incantatem_! _Expelliarmus_!”  
At an alarming speed, you heard another grunting noise and felt your ropes vanish. In a second, you grabbed your wand and got up.  
You eyed the scene: Ginny Weasley was now walking fast towards you.  
Goyle was on the ground, tied, and Draco made you get up.  
But you turned back your head when you heard a door being opened.  
“NO!”  
Crabbe had managed to pass in front of the empty wall three times, and knowing where Harry was, made the Room appear.  
“ _Stupefy_!”  
But it was too late; the red spark hit the naked wall right after he entered.  
Anxiousness spread in your belly.  
“Ginny, Harry’s in there, we must-”  
“No.”  
You blinked and eyed her.  
She was dishevelled, dirty, and was massaging her shoulder.  
“y/n…” She paused and looked at Draco. She hesitated, and finally said: “…and Draco. We need people down here. It’s madness.”  
She wiped her forehead with her sleeve and glanced above her shoulder towards the stairs.  
“Come with us. I don’t know what Harry’s doing in there… But he’s not alone and doesn’t need us.”  
She quickly nodded, more for herself, and disappeared in a ginger storm.


	11. Silver Lights and Green Sparkles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter ripped my soul so hard I think I accidentally created a Horcrux

The battle was raging.  
You had come down the floors, Draco and you joining the others to fight Voldemort’s soldiers.  
The fight momentarily made you forget about Harry, Ron and Hermione trapped in the Room of Requirement with Crabbe.  
Your body was sore, painfully pulsing at several places.  
You were propelling a Death Eater into the stairs when a sudden explosion a floor below you made you look at Draco, still at your side.  
“What was that?”  
You took the opportunity of Flitwick beating a witch’s ass to vanish in the stairs and burst where the explosion took place.  
The corridor was empty, but you thought you heard people leave it right before you arrived.  
There was dust everywhere, so much you couldn’t see the ground anymore.  
You went down one floor, coming on the ground floor, when your attraction got dragged by a red-head young man further in the corridor. Your heart skipped a beat, thinking it was Ron, but you soon recognized Percy.  
You squinted.  
Was he crying?  
“Y/N!”  
“ _Protego_!”  
Draco pushed you on the ground when a transparent shield dressed on both of you made the green light bounce towards the ceiling and made gravels of stone fall around.  
A young woman with bright-pink hair ran next to you, turning her head to say: “Leave! _Now_!”  
Two Death Eaters had appeared and she managed to stupefy one, the other dodging her attack.  
Draco and you got up not looking back, running straight ahead – towards the gates.  
You jumped above the steps to land on the grass of the grounds right at the moment a green light made Tonks fall on the floor, hitting her right in the chest.

You ran a bit outside, fresh air of the night battling on your faces. Chests heaving, you stopped in the middle of the grounds to catch back your breaths.  
It was astonishing; the outside of the castle was empty, calm, peaceful – the opposite of what was inside.  
You glanced around.  
The end of the grounds was disappearing into the night, the horizon dark.  
Except for one place.  
“Draco!”  
You caught his sleeve and pulled. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out so you just pointed in front of you.  
On the grass right next to the gates, brighter than the stars, a silver doe was illuminating the night.  
You had never seen it, only heard Ron and Harry talk about it when it had led them to the sword, months ago.  
“Is i- Is it a patronus?” He turned on himself like he was looking for something. “I don’t feel any Dementor-”  
“We have to follow it.”  
The revelation had hit you all at once, even surprising yourself of how naturally you had said that.  
Someone, somewhere, had sent this patronus to find you and lead you to a particular place.  
The doe wasn’t moving.  
It was looking at you.  
You made a step, and it suddenly started to walk. The gates weren’t far, but a good distance separated you from the exit.  
You started to run right when the animal passed the gates, going out of your eyesight, Draco catching you back after a second of surprise.  
“y/n, we cannot go out of the protective enchantments!”  
You didn’t answer.  
The gentle slope of the fields made you run faster, and when you too passed the gate, you spotted again the doe further on the path.  
“Is it going to Hogsmeade?”  
You didn’t answer, keeping your breath steady.  
Between two ragged breaths, Draco managed to ask again: “Are we really following an unknown patronus, going we don’t know where, outside of Hogwarts?”  
You turned your head to look at him, slightly behind you.  
“Are you really trying to resonate me _now_?”  
You ran again all along the main street and saw the doe turn left after the Three Broomsticks. You turned at the corner of the bar, sliding on your soles. Draco mimicked you and nearly lost balance, cursing.  
You didn’t meet anyone during your run, and when you reached for the end of the street, you saw the patronus had stopped, like to watch if you were still following.  
In front of you was a little field, the only building in the surrounding being the Shrieking Shack.  
A second passed where you and the doe eyed each other, your heavy breathings only filling the silence.  
Then, gracefully but at a fast pace, the patronus started to walk again. You followed its steps, but there weren’t any doubts now; it was leading you to the shack.  
You had nearly reached out for the wooden façade when you heard: “ _Expelliarmus_!”  
Between two of the wooden plates obscuring the windows, you saw a red light and heard the characteristic noise of a wand falling on the floor.  
Under the surprise, both Draco and you crouched on the ground, raising a bit of dust around you.  
At your side, and a bit less brilliant than before, the doe was still there. Its presence reassured you, but fear spread in your belly like a crawling spider.  
“Master…”  
“The Elder Wand can’t obey me plainly, because I’m not its actual master. It belongs to the one who killed its previous owner…”  
You pricked up your ear.  
There were people inside.  
Men, certainly, due to the voices.  
You concentrated and tried to seize words, but all you could hear was your heavily beating heart inside of your chest, resonating in your temples.  
One voice was clear, higher than the other, and made your guts freeze.  
It was the voice you all heard inside your own heads earlier. At your side, Draco looked at you.  
He had gotten it too.  
On your knees, you approached the shack and tended your ear towards the glassless window.  
The second voice was deeper, and seemed to talk more briefly, what complicated your focus.  
You frowned.  
Something…  
It was a familiar voice.  
“Master!”  
“It can’t be otherwise…”  
You couldn’t get what Voldemort added, he was speaking too low.  
There was a brushing noise, like someone was dragging something long on the floor.  
“Nagini…”  
Both Draco and you drew a breath and got even more tensed, closer than ever to the window.  
“… _Kill._ ”  
A loud thud, like a bag of sand had been thrown against the wall made you settle down against the ground and you mechanically put your hands on your head to protect yourself, feeling Draco’s body settle against you.

At your side, like a broken muggle light bulb, the silver doe faltered and after moments, died out, leaving you in the darkness of the night.


	12. The Calm Before the Storm

You can’t say how long you stayed like that, folded against the old, wooden façade of the shack against Draco.  
You were the first to move and glanced around.  
The silence was interrupted by a crac!, and you waited a bit before moving again.  
“y/n, what are you doing?”  
Draco had spoken in a whisper full of urge as you crouched and put your hand flat on the building, and you put your index on your mouth to hush him.  
He frowned, but you didn’t pay attention to it and concentrated on the noise you thought you were hearing.  
It looked like a precipitated breathing, hashed.  
Someone was bad.  
You readied yourself to prop yourself on your feet when you heard something else inside. It was like something was pushed, rubbed on the floor.  
You heard a distant murmur and a brushing noise, like a tablecloth falling on the floor.  
You now definitely stood under Draco’s tries to pull you back and positioned your eyes in front of a slit between two plates.  
You didn’t know what you were expecting, but definitely not that. There was a hole in a corner, leading to a hidden passage, apparently. Standing against each other, Ron and Hermione – you mentally noted the hem of their pants were wet – were looking at the floor.  
You felt Draco getting up at your side, slightly bending to see at your level.  
You lowered your gaze to follow your friends’ and opened wide eyes.  
The invisibility cloak right beside him, Harry was on his knees, above Snape’s form. He was half against the wall, chest heaving and breathing loudly.  
That’s when Harry put his trembling hand on his neck that you got it wasn’t his collar, but dark red blood covering his skin.  
On their own, your hands found the plate above your face and passed your fingers in the slit. It was hammered, but the nails were so rusty and old it didn’t take you a lot of strength to remove it from the window. Getting it, Draco did the same with the second one to free you a passage.  
Harry only glanced towards you due to the movement and ripping noise, but looked back at Snape, apparently saying something you didn’t get.  
Ron and Hermione made a movement towards their pocket hearing noise but didn’t carry on when they saw you.  
You brought yourself above the windowsill without any struggle, followed by Draco, and joined Harry, like Snape had promised to make sure of.  
You vaguely saw Harry put a little flask in his pocket.  
The relative silence was thick, until Snape’s grip on Harry’s collar loosened a bit.  
“Look… at… me.”  
And for the first time in seven years, Snape actually looked into Harry’s eyes.

Draco breathed: “We need to call someone… Madam Pomfrey, or…”  
After a second, his eyelids fell, his hand sliding on the ground.  
And you stayed there, silent.  
Finally, after more than a month, you were reunited, but no one moved nor talked. You don’t even  
know if they noticed Draco at your side.  
But suddenly, something made you move.  
“ _You fought bravely. Lord Voldemort knows how to spot bravery._ ”  
Voldemort’s voice resonated in your heads, freezing your guts.  
“ _I order my soldiers to get back. Harry Potter, you have an hour to meet me in the Forbidden Forest. If you don’t come,-_ ”  
But you didn’t listen to the rest.  
You didn’t want to.  
You barely heard Hermione’s protests and opened your eyes when you felt Draco press your hand.  
Harry had gotten up, eyes in the vague, and Ron had joined you. You both looked at each other for a second, and hugged tightly. No words were needed, and you let go of him to take Hermione in your arms too, while Ron and Draco awkwardly stood together, looking into different directions.  
“I think we should go.”  
Harry had spoken in a broken voice, picking up the cloak and stuffing it under his arm.  
After looking a last time at Snape, the five of you left the shack by a passage you didn’t know, to get out on the Hogwarts grounds, as peaceful as earlier.

Here and there, in the grass, small piles of clothes you tried to not pay attention at, helped by the dim light of the night.  
You were walking next to Ron, who was holding Hermione by the waist. Behind you were walking Draco and Harry, silent, side by side – which depicted well the abnormal event you were going through.  
You broke the silence: “Did you do it? Did you find Ravenclaw’s item?”  
This, at least, made a small smile appear on Ron’s face.  
“Destroyed. Harry had figured out the diadem – did you know it was a diadem? Ravenclaw’s lost Diadem, it’s Luna who taught us about it – would be in the Room of Requirement, I mean where everything is hidden. But… Crabbe had figured that out too. ‘Seems to be able to think on his own when an award is promised. He probably spotted us in the corridors and followed us.”  
You didn’t say anything to that.  
Talking seemed a hard task, and a bit out of breath, he ended: “Long story, but the Horcrux is broken. Hufflepuff’s cup too.” He then just added ‘Crabbe’ and ‘Fiendfyre’, closing his mouth.  
You had reached out for the castle now, and saw Harry drape himself with the cloak as you went up the stone steps.  
The corridors were as silent as the outsides, which was nearly more worrying than the screams, deflagrations noises and sparkle lights that had resonated earlier between the walls.  
Ron nearly slid on green emeralds scattered on the floor, and you had to jump above a piece of the stairs stopping the way.  
Murmurs of voices reached for your ears as you approached the Great Hall.  
The huge doors were opened, and the four of you – plus a hidden Harry, if he was still there – stayed on the doorstep, not able to do anything else than process what you were seeing.  
At the far end of the room, where the Professors’ table usually stood, was a queue of people waiting to be healed by Madam Pomfrey.  
Here and there were standing groups of people, some in a tight hug, some simply next to each other in silence, some crying – or talking lightly like they were taking their breakfast before class.  
And some were laying on the floor, immobile.  
Without saying a word, Ron and Hermione left you.  
You watched her meet Ginny and hug her tightly. Ron joined a bunch of red-head people; Fleur and Bill were holding each other by the waist, and a man came out of the group. Percy eyed his youngest brother a second before passing an arm around his shoulders.  
You blinked: they were talking to each other, now?  
It gave you a light smile.  
But something was wrong.  
A bit apart from the family, George was standing, his wand dangling from his hand.  
Alone.  
You opened your mouth to say something, but hasty steps made you turn your head. You clearly heard _someone_ go up what stayed of the marbled stairs, but saw no one.  
You passed an arm below Draco’s armpit and without saying a word, entered the Great Hall.  
Between dirty, some stained-of-blood faces, you spotted Luna’s blond head sitting alone on a bench made of a piece of a broken statue. She was looking at the magical sky, dreamy.  
You decided to walk towards her, and locked your gaze on her face, avoiding you to watch your surroundings too much, and preventing you to notice your third year's Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor laying on the floor, for example.


	13. The Last Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter, and thank you to everyone who read it, I hope you enjoyed it :)  
> Check my profile if you want, I wrote other HP fics!

You were still sitting tightly against Draco in the Great Hall.  
You didn’t know for how long; maybe five minutes, or five hours.  
A low murmur was still filling the room.  
You were looking at a tile on the floor – the only one not decorated by a drop of blood.  
It was like time had ceased to pass.  
Nothing was happening.  
You hadn’t even noticed, by the window, a sudden green light, so strong its rays passed between the trees of the Forbidden Forest.

Well, that wasn’t true; one thing had happened.  
At a moment, Hermione had anxiously approached you.  
“Hey, y/n… Hi Draco.”  
You had lifted tired eyes towards her.  
“Yes?”  
“Do you know where Harry is?”  
You blinked, your brain working slowly.  
Not knowing where Harry was, at that moment, should have made a wave of stress go up your body.  
But it didn’t.  
“No.”  
She frowned slightly.  
“Oh, wait… I think I saw him go upstairs, earlier. That’s all.”  
She thanked you, and left.

You don’t know how much time you stayed there again, without moving, but the day was rising and mimicking the outside, the magical sky of the Great Hall was slowly taking a lighter blue taint.  
Your head had fallen on Draco’s shoulder when-  
“NO!”  
You sat straight, alert.  
From the corridor, McGonagall’s tearing scream had made everyone stop talking, and you decided it was the worst thing you had ever heard in your entire life.  
You weren’t the first to move.  
A bunch of people, including the remaining Professors, got out of their contemplative state and left the Hall.  
It’s the deafening silence reigning from the growing mass of people in the corridor and on the front steps that decided you and Draco to join them.  
You were close to the gates when Ginny screamed: “Harry! HARRY!”  
You looked at Draco.  
“Harry?”  
Heat spread in your chest.  
 _Harry had come back?_  
You grabbed Draco’s hand and made yourself a way between people to reach for the front line. You spotted Hermione’s messy hair into the crowd and put a hand on her shoulder.  
“Hermione, Harry’s back?!”  
But your smile soon disappeared when she turned to you her wet cheeks.  
You looked ahead.  
In front of the school, a line of people, all dressed in black.  
In the middle of it, right in front of the gates, two figures detached themselves; Voldemort’s pale, thin form, hand put on his snake’s head, and Hagrid’s huge one right next to him.  
The surprise of seeing him there made you freeze at first.  
And what was he holding in his arms?  
You squinted.  
Suddenly, the cold shiver of realisation run along your spine, and you opened your mouth to scream, but Voldemort’s charm made all of you unable to produce a sound.  
“Put him on the ground, Hagrid, at my feet. Where he belongs.”  
His voice resonated more than when he was talking inside your head.  
With an unsuspected delicacy, Hagrid put Harry’s body on the ground.  
“Harry Potter is dead!”  
Your mind was blank, eyes unable to look elsewhere than Harry, arm weirdly contorted on the ground, wand still in his hand, like ready to fight.  
 _But it was too late._  
Voldemort talked again, and you even heard Ron scream at a moment.  
But what brought you back was a sudden bang! and a light, followed by a thud on the grass. You moved your gaze.  
“It’s Neville Longbottom, Master!”  
Painfully, Neville was getting up under the Death Eaters’ laughs and Voldemort’s awful smirk. He stood awkwardly crooked, but chin up, and old patched hat clutched in his hand.  
Still on the background of laughs, Voldemort approached him and looked at him like he was a curious animal.  
“I think it’s time Neville shows us what happens to people who dare to oppose me…”  
He made two steps back, and drew a breath.  
“ _AV_ -”  
“ _Protego_!”  
Everything happened fast.  
Voldemort had raised his wand, but the Shield Charm had been cast between him and Neville.  
But by who?  
The Death Eaters’ laughs ceased and a murmur raised from your ranks, definitely increased by Hagrid’s shouts: “HARRY? WHERE’S HARRY?”  
Everyone without exception started to move.  
Neville seemed to grab something from the Sorting Hat, and in a swift movement, Gryffindor’s sword slit the air in a silver lightning, aiming right on Nagini’s head.  
But you didn’t get to see what happened next; the battle that had stopped at 11.30pm some hours ago seemed to start again.  
Lights came from all sides.  
You were getting back into the corridors, spells stiffing at your ears, red sparkles getting out of your wand and transparent shield appearing in front of you from time to time.  
“ _Expel-_ ”  
“ _Protego_!”  
You didn’t know where the disarming spell came from, but it bounced against your charm and avoided you, your wand staying well in your hand.  
You ran next to Molly Weasley busy with Bellatrix Lestrange and prepared yourself to stupefy Yaxley when-  
“ _Alarte Ascendare_!”  
You felt yourself taking off the ground and bump into a low arcade of the wall, crashing on the floor.  
The whole left side of your body hurt painfully and the fall cut your breath for a second. Grunting, you rolled on your back and opened your eyes. First thing you saw was the high ceiling of the Great Hall and its pale blue sky with taints of orange, spotted by lost spells and crossed by red and green lightnings.  
You somehow turned your head to see Lucius Malfoy, face contorted in anger, walking towards you, wand ready.  
Yours was still in your hand, but your arm didn’t want to cooperate anymore.  
Who knows what spell he was about to cast when he suddenly changed direction and shouted: “ _Protego_!”, making a flash of red light bounce back towards the wall, deviated by his charm.  
His eyes widened when he saw who attacked him, but he didn’t have time to say anything when another, still deviated, red spark flew towards him.  
He shouted: “Draco, what are you doing?”  
But his question stayed unanswered, and the duel carried on between the father and the son.  
“y/n, watch out!”  
You had managed to sit up but bent back when Neville shouted your name.  
In front of you, a Death Eater had missed you and Neville jumped, shouting: “ _Serpensortia_!”  
Apparently now specialist in snakes, a long, thin one escaped his wand and angrily moved towards the Death Eater, running away.  
Neville passed an arm below your armpit and dragged you behind a table.  
“Are you alright?”  
You frantically nodded: “Now yes, thank you!”  
A movement on your left made you turn your head: Draco jumped behind the table too. He was dishevelled, out of breath.  
“I think he left!”  
Neville extended his arm and tapped on his shoulder.  
“That’s what I call revenge! Well done!”  
And then, all at once, he got up, jumped above the table and went back into the fight.  
“Draco.”  
He looked at you, chest heaving.  
“Yeah?”  
Loads of words wanted to come out of your mouth, so you just grabbed him by the collar and kissed him.  
His hand went at the back of your sweaty neck to keep you there the longest possible the situation could allow.  
A violet spark, strangely looking like a Thor’s Thunder Cracker from the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes bumped into the wall above your heads, making you break apart.  
After a look in each other’s eyes, you got up and jumped above the table, going back into the fight.  
You were running straight ahead when-  
“ _Protego_!”  
The power of the spell made you stumble, gripping Draco’s shoulder to not, once again, fall on the floor.  
Like a glassy dome, the Shield Charm was cast in the entire Great Hall, between all of you and-  
“Harry! HE’S ALIVE!”  
Amazement and acclamation shouts rose from the Hall, some people grabbing themselves, not sure they were seeing clear.  
Trapped in the Charm, Harry was standing opposite to Voldemort.  
Everyone held their breath.  
Like two lions in a cage, they walked face to face, tensed, turning around and drawing a circle in the dust with their feet.  
Harry’s face was dirty, shining under the magical sky and the gleaming Shield, but determination and strength lit his green eyes.  
Face to him, Voldemort was paler than usual, lightly crooked, chest heaving.  
Both of them raised their wands, waiting for the moment.  
At your side, Draco gasped, looking at Harry: “Hey! That’s my wand!”  
“ _Avada Kedavra_!”  
“ _Expelliarmus_!”  
A big, maybe the loudest blast you had ever heard sounded, and even made the walls and windows tremble.  
A golden light shone a moment, and a green light met the red light sent by Harry.  
Under his spell, the Elder Wand flew in the air, joining its true owner, while Voldemort’s body hit the floor.

Silence fell and breathings got cut.  
You don’t know how many seconds the lot of you stayed like that, looking at Harry, both wands in his hands, standing in the middle of the Great Hall in front of the Dark Lord’s dead body.  
The Shield Charm had vanished, making him seem even closer than before.  
Ron, who you didn’t notice was next to you, broke the silence.  
“Bloody hell, did he kill You-Know-Who with the Disarming Charm?”  
No one dared to move, nor say anything, and the second after, the deafening united sound of your screams and shouts filled the room.  
The first to reach for Harry were Hermione and Ron, then Ginny, Neville and Luna, all the Weasleys, then Hagrid, Kingsley, McGonagall, Flitwick…  
The first ray of sunshine of the 2nd of May entered the Great Hall, illuminating the huge embrace the poor Harry was in.

But you weren’t in it.  
The one you were hugging tight right now was Draco.  
Your bodies were bumped into, pushed on the side by excited people dancing and shouting, but you didn’t move.  
You’ll have plenty of time to hug Harry after; the whole life, after all.  
McGonagall, in a movement of the arm, put back the four tables at their place; but while taking a seat, no one paid attention in which house they were sitting in.  
Further on a bench and next to the Gryffindor’s sword, Neville was surrounded by admirers – including Slughorn – quite preventing him to eat; but something told you he didn’t really care.  
Taking advantage of him looking elsewhere, Dean and Seamus caught sausages in his plate to run further in the room and throw it in Gawp’s mouth, under Ginny’s tired, but amused gaze, head on her mother’s shoulder.  
Harry let himself fall on a bench next to Luna. You saw them exchange words, and saw Harry discretely put the Invisibility Cloak on him.  
After a minute, you saw Ron and Hermione suddenly standing, leaving the Great Hall right when Peeves entered, singing loudly.  
“Do you think he’ll keep it?”  
You removed your head from Draco’s shoulder to look at him.  
You scoffed: “Why? Are you interested in the Elder Wand?”  
He frowned.  
“The what? You mean _my_ wand. I want it back!” He turned his head and extended his neck, glancing around the room. “I swore I saw him a minute ago. HEY, POTTER!”  
You laughed.

-

_1 st of September, 19 years later_

You put your hand on his smaller one, already anxiously gripping the trolley’s handler, where a heavy trunk was disposed.  
You bent above him and said in his ear, after glancing around: “Just run straight ahead. We go at three, okay? One… Two…”  
By the corner of your eye, you saw Draco mimic your position, both of you protectively hovering above your son.  
“Three!”  
You crossed the four meters between your spot and the arcade between the platform 9 and 10 of the King’s Cross station walking fast right when a man entered a train at your side, clearing the path of his body and indiscreet eyes.

The three of you passed through the wall, suddenly welcomed by the busy noise of the platform; people chatting loudly, trolleys rolling, owls hooting and cats wandering between legs. Children accompanied by their parents were wearing either anxious or excited faces. Some gripped their mother’s and father’s robes, not really delighted by the perspective of going to school, and others were already jumping into the Hogwarts Express, eager to meet their friends again.  
To free the passage, you walked further on the platform, and passed in front of two young people passionately kissing against a wall. Both of your gazes were attracted by the bright blue hair of the boy, and Draco sniffed: “Aren’t they out of Hogwarts already? They’re twenty, no?” He rolled his eyes and you heard him say under his breath: “ _Not able to watch out his godson…”_  
White smoke escaped the chimney of the train, indicating you the engine had been turned on for the approaching departure.  
Looking at the surroundings, your son turned and looked at both of you with widened eyes: “I’m not sure I want to go there. You know, I could learn everything from you, right? You’re talented wizards, and-”  
You gently cut your son: “Scorpius, you are, like every wizard of your age, going to Hogwarts. It’s normal you’re anxious, I was too.”  
You saw your speech, even though it wasn’t the first time you told him that, had an effect on him. He turned his face to Draco, who nodded to your words: “Listen to your mother, Scorpius.”  
“Dad, were you anxious too before your first day of class?”  
After a second, he repeated: “Just listen to your mother.”  
You rolled your eyes and bit your lip to not laugh and said: “I think you should go, to get a good place.”  
Scorpius nodded, and after a moment of hesitation, took his trunk after turning a last time towards you. He crossed the distance between you and the train, where you were still able to spot his blond hair between parents and pupils.  
He entered the train, unknowingly following a certain Albus Potter’s path.  
You smiled, your hand finding Draco’s at your side.  
When you couldn’t follow Scorpius anymore, your gaze wandered in the crowd, to meet his, further away.  
At his side, a woman with long ginger hair was holding a little girl, looking like a smaller copy of her mother; expect her hair, taking a darker ginger colour. She was agitating her second free arm, making a sign towards the children she saw by the window.  
Next to her was standing a man, same flaming red hair, a hand on his son’s shoulder in front of him, and an arm around his wife, who was smiling emotionally, a single tear rolling down her cheek, soon disappearing into her messy hair.  
You smiled at Harry, smile he gave you back. His gaze then met Draco’s, and both politely nodded to each other.  
You pressed your thumb on his skin.  
“I congratulate you for this self-control, Draco.”  
He puffed, but answered on a pompous tone, passing his hand on his button-up robes: “Well, I seem to stand him better when I don’t see him often.”  
“Now that our children are in the same year… We might meet him again, don’t you think?”  
He shrugged.  
“Why? You tell me his son’s gonna be sorted into Slytherin and become Scorpius’ best friend?”  
Your gazes met, and both of you couldn’t keep your seriousness anymore.  
Your laughs got swallowed by a whistle and the wheels started to work.  
Further on the platform, Harry Potter mechanically touched his forehead, watching the Hogwarts Express leaving in a white smoke cloud.  
All was well.

_Fin._


End file.
